An Anthology
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IOLAUS
IOLAUS
AN ANTHOLOGY OF FRIENDSHIP
EDITED BY
EDWARD CARPENTER
PUBLISHED BY
SWAN SONNENSCHEIN & Co. LIMITED
PATERNOSTER SQUARE, LONDON
ALSO BY THE AUTHOR AT
56, SACKVILLE STREET, MANCHESTER
AND BY CHARLES E. GOODSPEED
BOSTON, MASS., U.S.A.
MCMII.
"And as to the loves of Hercules it is difficult
to record them because of their number. But some
who think that lolaus was one of them, do to this
day worship and honour him; and make their
loved ones swear fidelity at his tomb."
(Plutarch)
HO
O^
•* —
.
CM
PREFACE
THE degree to which Friendship, in the early
history of the world, has been recognised as
an institution, and the dignity ascribed to it, are
things hardly realised to-day. Yet a very slight ex-
amination of the subject shows the important part
it has played. In making the following collection
I have been much struck by the remarkable manner
in which the customs of various races and times
illustrate each other, and the way in which they
point to a solid and enduring body of human senti-
ment on the subject. By arranging the extracts in
a kind of rough chronological and evolutionary or-
der from those dealing with primitive races onwards,
the continuity of these customs comes out all the
more clearly, as well as their slow modification in
course of time. But it must be confessed that the
present collection is only incomplete, and a small
contribution, at best, towards a large subject.
In the matter of quotation and translation, my
best thanks are due to various authors and holders
of literary copyrights for their assistance and author-
ity ; and especially to the Master and Fellows of
Balliol College for permission to quote from the
late Professor Jowett's translation of Plato's dia-
VI.
Preface
logues ; to Messrs. George Bell & Sons for leave
to make use of the Bohn series ; to Messrs. A. & C.
Black for leave of quotation from the late J. Ad-
dington Symonds' Studies of the Greek Poets; and
to Messrs. Longmans, Green & Co., for sanction
of extracts from the Rev. W. H. Hutchings' trans-
lation of the Confessions of St. Augustine. In cases
where no reference is given the translations are by
the Editor.
E.G.
March, 1902.
CONTENTS
page
Preface
v.
I. Friendship-customs in the Pagan and
Early World .... I
II. The place of Friendship in Greek Life
and Thought . . . . ^o
HI. Poetry of Friendship among the
Greeks and Romans . . 65
IV. Friendship in Early Christian and
Mediaeval Times . . .95
V. The Renaissance and Modern Times 121
Index ' ,• • - . . 183
I.
Friendship- Customs
in the Pagan & Early World
o •/
it SHEET Two
Friendship- Customs
in the Tagan & Early World
O XT
'RIENDSHIP-CUSTOMS, of a very
marked and definite character, have
apparently prevailed among a great
many primitive peoples ; but the
information that we have about them is seldom
thoroughly satisfactory. Travellers have been con-
tent to note external ceremonies, like the exchange
of names between comrades, or the mutual tasting
of each other's blood, but — either from want of
perception or want of opportunity — have not been
able to tell us anything about the inner meaning of
these formalities, or the sentiments which may have
inspired them. Still, we have material enough to
indicate that comrade-attachment has been recog-
nised as an important institution, and held in high
3
Friendship- Customs
esteem, among quite savage tribes ; and some of
the following quotations will show this. When we
come to the higher culture of the Greek age the
material fortunately is abundant — not only for the
customs, but (in Greek philosophy and poetry) for
the inner sentiments which inspired these customs.
Consequently it will be found that the major part
of this and the following two chapters deals with
matter from Greek sources. The later chapters
carry on the subject in loosely historical sequence
through the Christian centuries down to modern
times.
t?=^ _
HE Balonda are an African tribe
inhabiting Londa land, among the
Southern tributaries of the Congo
River. They were visited by Living-
stone, and the following account of their customs
is derived from him : —
"HT^HE Balonda have a most remarkable custom
J. of cementing friendship. When two men
agree to be special friends they go through a sin-
gular ceremony. The men sit opposite each other
holding hands, and by the side of each is a vessel
4
Pagan S? Early W^orld
o */
of beer. Slight cuts are then made on the clasped PRIMITP
hands, on the pit of the stomach, on the right CJTRJT.
cheek, and on the forehead. The point of a grass-
blade is pressed against each of these cuts, so as
to take up a little of the blood, and each man
washes the grass-blade in his own beer vessel.
The vessels are then exchanged and the contents
drunk, so that each imbibes the blood of the other.
The two are thenceforth considered as blood-
relations, and are bound to assist each other in
every possible manner. While the beer is being
drunk, the friends of each of the men beat on the
ground with clubs, and bawl out certain sentences
as ratification of the treaty. It is thought correct
for all the friends of each party to the contract to
drink a little of the beer. The ceremony is called
'Kasendi.' After it has been completed, gifts are
exchanged, and both parties always give their
most precious possessions." Natural History of
Man. Rev. J. G. Wood. Vol: Africa^ p. 419.
Among the Manganjas and other tribes of the
Zambesi region, Livingstone found the custom of
changing names prevalent.
"OININYANE (a headman) had exchanged
O names with a Zulu at Shupanga, and on being
called the next morning made no answer; to a
5
Friendship- Customs
EXCHANGE second and third summons he paid no attention;
OF but at length one of his men replied, {He is not
NAMES' Sininyane now, he is Moshoshoma ; ' and to this
name he answered promptly. The custom of ex-
changing names with men of other tribes is not
uncommon ; and the exchangers regard them-
selves as close comrades, owing special duties to
each other ever after. Should one by chance visit
his comrade's town, he expects to receive food,
lodging, and other friendly offices from him."
Narrative of an Expedition to the Zambesi. By
David and Charles Livingstone. Murray, 1865,
p. 148.
the story of David and Jonathan,
i which follows, we have an example,
, from much the same stage of primitive
^tribal life, of a compact between two
friends — one the son of the chief, the other a shep-
herd youth — only in this case, in the song of
David ("I am distressed for thee, my brother Jona-
than, thy love to me was wonderful") we are for-
tunate in having the inner feeling preserved for us.
It should be noted that Jonathan gives to David
his "most precious possessions."
6
Pagan & Early World
" A ND when Saul saw David go forth against DAVID
JL\. the Philistine (Goliath), he said unto Abner, AND
the captain of the host, 'Abner, whose son is this JONATHAN
youth?' And Abner said, 'As thy soul liveth, O
King, I cannot tell.' And the King said, 'Inquire
thou whose son the stripling is.' And as David
returned from the slaughter of the Philistine,
Abner took him and brought him before Saul,
with the head of the Philistine in his hand. And
Saul said to him, 'Whose son art thou, young
man?' And David answered, 'The son of thy
servant Jesse the Bethlehemite.'
"And it came to pass, when he had made an
end of speaking unto Saul, that the soul of Jonathan
was knit with the soul of David, and Jonathan
loved him as his own soul. And Saul took him
that day, and would let him go no more home to
his father's house. Then Jonathan and David
made a covenant, because he loved him as his own
soul. And Jonathan stripped himself of the robe
that was upon him, and gave it to David, and his
garments, even to his sword, and to his bow, and
to his girdle." i Sam. ch. xvii. 55.
With regard to the exchange of names, a slightly FLOWER
different custom prevails among the Bengali coolies. ^
Two youths, or two girls, will exchange two
7
Friendship- Customs
flowers (of the same kind) with each other, in
token of perpetual alliance. After that, one speaks
of the other as "my flower," but never alludes to
the other by name again — only by some round-
about phrase.
ERMAN MELVILLE, who voyaged
among the Pacific Islands in 1841-
1845, giyes some interesting and re-
liable accounts of Polynesian customs
-iod. He says : —
POLYNESIA "r I ^HE really curious way in which all the Poly-
TAHITI •*• nesians are m the habit of making bosom
friends at the shortest possible notice is deserving
of remark. Although, among a people like the
Tahitians, vitiated as they are by sophisticating
influences, this custom has in most cases degene-
rated into a mere mercenary relation, it neverthe-
less had its origin in a fine, and in some instances
heroic, sentiment formerly entertained by their
fathers.
"In the annals of the island (Tahiti) are exam-
ples of extravagant friendships, unsurpassed by
the story of Damon and Pythias, in truth, much
more wonderful ; for notwithstanding the devo-
tion— even of life in some cases — to which they
8
Pagan ^f Early World
led, they were frequently entertained at first sight
for some stranger from another island." Omoo,
Herman Melville, ch. 39, p. 154.
"HpHOUGH little inclined to jealousy in (ordi-
A. nary) love-matters, the Tahitian will hear of
no rivals in his friendship." Ibid, ch. 40.
Melville spent some months on one of the Mar-
quesas Islands, in a valley occupied by a tribe called
Typees ; one day there turned up a stranger be-
longing to a hostile tribe who occupied another part
of the island: —
'"THHE stranger could not have been more than ]yj ARQU E-
J. twenty -five years of age, and was a little 5 AS
above the ordinary height; had he been a single ISLANDS
hair's breadth taller, the matchless symmetry of
his form would have been destroyed. His unclad
limbs were beautifully formed ; whilst the elegant
outline of his figure, together with his beardless
cheeks, might have entitled him to the distinction
of standing for the statue of the Polynesian
Apollo ; and indeed the oval of his countenance
and the regularity of every feature reminded me
of an antique bust. But the marble repose of art
was supplied by a warmth and liveliness of expres-
sion only to be seen in the South Sea Isbnder
9
Friendship- Customs
under the most favourable developments of
nature. . . . When I expressed my surprise (at his
venturing among the Typees) he looked at me for
a moment as if enjoying my perplexity, and then
with his strange vivacity exclaimed — 'Ah! me
taboo — me go Nukuheva — me go Tior — me go
Typee — me go everywhere — nobody harm me,
me taboo.'
"This explanation would have been altogether
unintelligible to me, had it not recalled to my mind
something I had previously heard concerning a
singular custom among these islanders. Though
the country is possessed by various tribes, whose
mutual hostilities almost wholly preclude any
intercourse between them ; yet there are instances
where a person having ratified friendly relations
with some individual belonging to the valley,
whose inmates are at war with his own, may under
particular restrictions venture with impunity into
the country of his friend, where under other cir-
cumstances he would have been treated as an
enemy. In this light are personal friendships re-
garded among them, and the individual so pro-
tected is said to be 'taboo,' and his person to a
certain extent is held as sacred. Thus the stranger
informed me he had access to all the valleys in
the island." Typee, Herman Melville, ch. xviii.
10
Pagan & Early World
almost all primitive nations, warfare
has given rise to institutions of mili-
tary comradeship — including, for in-
i stance, institutions of instruction for
young warriors, of personal devotion to their
leaders, or of personal attachment to each other.
In Greece these customs were specially defined, as
later quotations will show.
Tacitus, speaking of the arrangement among the
Germans by which each military chief was surroun-
ded by younger companions in arms, says : —
urT^HERE is great emulation among the com- TACITUS
JL panions, which shall possess the highest place ON MILI-
in the favour of their chief ; and among the chiefs, TARY COM-
which shall excel in the number and valour of his RADESH1P
companions. It is their dignity, their strength,
to be always surrounded with a large body of
select youth, an ornament in peace, a bulwark in
war ... In the field of battle, it is disgraceful for
the chief to be surpassed in valour ; it is disgrace-
ful for the companions not to equal their chief;
but it is reproach and infamy during a whole suc-
ceeding life to retreat from the field surviving
him. To aid, to protect him ; to place their own
ii
Friendship- Customs
gallant actions to the account of his glory is their
first and most sacred engagement." 'Tacitus, Ger-
mania, 13, 14, Bohn Series.
MONG the Arab tribes very much
the same thing may be found, every
Sheikh having his bodyguard of
young men, whom he instructs and
educates, while they render to him their military and
personal devotion. In the late expedition of the
British to Khartoum (Nov., 1899), when Colonel
Wingate and his troops mowed down the Khalifa
and his followers with their Maxims, the death of
the Khalifa was thus described by a correspondent
of the daily papers : —
THE "TN the centre of what was evidently the main
KHALIFA *• attack °n °ur right we came across a very large
AT KHAR- number of bodies all huddled together in a very
TOUM small place ; their horses lay dead behind them, the
Khalifa lay dead on his furma, or sheepskin, the
typical end of the Arab Sheikh who disdains sur-
render ; on his right was the Khalifa Aly Wad Hila,
and on his left Ahmed Fedil, his great fighting
leader, whilst all around him lay his faithful emirs,
all content to meet their death when he had chosen
12
Pagan ^f Early World
ci •/
to meet his. His black Mulamirin, or bodyguard,
all lay dead in a straight line about 40 yards in front
of their master's body, with their faces to the foe
and faithful to the last. It was truly a touching
sight, and one could not help but feel that. . .their
end was truly grand Amongst the dead were
found two men tied together by the arms, who had
charged towards the guns and had got nearer than
any others. On enquiring of the prisoners Colonel
Wingate was told these two were great friends, and
on seeing the Egyptian guns come up had tied
themselves by the arms with a cord, swearing to
reach the guns or die together."
Compare also the following quotation from Am-
mianus Marcellinus (xvi. 13), who says that when
Chonodomarus, "King of the Alamanni,"was taken
prisoner by the Romans,
"T TIS companions, two hundred in number, and PRIMITIVE
-Li three friends peculiarly attached to him, GERMANS
thinking it infamous to survive their prince, or not
to die for him, surrendered themselves to be put
in bonds."
The following passage from Livingstone shows
the existence among the African tribes of his time
of a system, which Wood rightly says "has a singu-
13
Friendship- Customs
lar resemblance to the instruction of pages in the
days of chivalry" : —
SOUTH AF- " "\/T ONINA (one of the confederate chiefs of the
RICAN -LVJL Banyai) had a great number of young men
TRIBES about him, from twelve to fifteen years of age.
These were all sons of free men, and bands of
young lads like them in the different districts leave
their parents about the age of puberty and live with
such men as Monina for the sake of instruction.
When I asked the nature of the instruction I was
told 'Bonycii,' which I suppose may be understood
as indicating manhood, for it sounds as if we should
say, 'to teach an American Americanism,' or, 'an
Englishman to be English.' While here they are
kept in subjection to rather stringent regulations.
.... They remain unmarried until a fresh set of
youths is ready to occupy their place under the
same instruction." Missionary Travels and Re-
searches in South Africa. By David Livingstone,
1857, p. 618.
M. Foley (Bulln. Soc. d'Anthr. de Paris, 1879)
speaks of fraternity in arms among the natives of
New Caledonia as forming a close tie — closer even
than consanguinity.
«4
Pagan & Early World
c* •/
ITH regard to Greece, J. Addington
Symonds has some interesting re-
marks, which are well worthy of
consideration ; he says : —
EARLY all the historians of Greece have GREEK
failed to insist upon the fact that fraternity in FRIEND-
arms played for the Greek race the same part as the SHIP AND
idealisation of women for the knighthood of feudal MEDIAEVAL
Europe. Greek mythology and history are full of CHIVALRY
tales of friendship, which can only be paralleled by
the story of David and Jonathan in the Bible. The
legends of Herakles and Hylas, of Theseus and
Peirithous, of Apollo and Hyacinth, of Orestes and
Pylades, occur immediately to the mind. Among
the noblest patriots, tyrannicides, lawgivers, and
self-devoted heroes in the early times of Greece,
we always find the names of friends and comrades
received with peculiar honour. Harmodius and
Aristogeiton, who slew the despot Hipparchus at
Athens ; Diocles and Philolaus, who gave laws to
Thebes ; Chariton and Melanippus, who resisted
the sway of Phalaris in Sicily ; Cratinus and Aristo-
demus, who devoted their lives to propitiate offen-
ded deities when a plague had fallen on Athens;
these comrades, staunch to each other in their love,
15
Friendship- Customs
and elevated by friendship to the pitch of noblest
enthusiasm, were among the favourite saints of
Greek legend and history. In a word, the chivalry
of Hellas found its motive force in friendship rather
than in the love of women ; and the motive force of
all chivalry is a generous, soul-exalting, unselfish
passion. The fruit which friendship bore among
the Greeks was courage in the face of danger, in-
difference to life when honour was at stake, patri-
otic ardour, the love of liberty, and lion-hearted
rivalry in battle. * Tyrants,' said Plato, 'stand in
awe of friends.' " Studies of the Greek Poets. By J. A.
Symonds, vol.. i, p. 97.
[E customs connected with this fra-
ternity in arms, in Sparta and in
'rete, are described with care and at
^considerable length in the following
extract from Miiller's History and Antiquities of the
Doric Race, book iv., ch. 4, par. 6 : —
"AT Sparta the party loving was called a<T7rvrjAae,
-iV and his affection was termed a breathing in, or
inspiring (eto-Trvav) ; which expresses the pure and
mental connection between the two persons, and
corresponds with the name of the other, viz. : atVag,
i.e., listener or bearer. Now it appears to have been
16
Tagan Sif Early ff^orld
the practice for every youth of good character to FRATERNI-
have his lover ; and on the other hand every well- TY IN ARMS
educated man was bound by custom to be the lover IN SPARTA
of some youth. Instances of this connection are
furnished by several of the royal family of Sparta ;
thus, Agesilaus, while he still belonged to the herd
(ayf'Xn) of youths, was the hearer (cuVa?) of Lysan-
der, and himself had in his turn also a nearer ; his
son Archidamus was the lover of the son of Spho-
drias, the noble Cleonymus ; Cleomenes III. was
when a young man the hearer of Xenares, and later
in life the lover of the brave Panteus. The connec-
tion usually originated from the proposal of the
lover ; yet it was necessary that the listener should
accept him with real affection, as a regard to the
riches of the proposer was considered very dis-
graceful ; sometimes, however, it happened that
the proposal originated from the other party. The
connection appears to have been very intimate and
faithful ; and was recognised by the State. If his
relations were absent, the youth might be repre-
sented in the public assembly by his lover ; in battle
too they stood near one another, where their fide-
lity and affection were often shown till death ; while
at home the youth was constantly under the eyes
of his lover, who was to him as it were a model and
pattern of life; which explains why, for many
* 7 a SIII;KT THREE
Friendship- Customs
faults, particularly want of ambition, the lover
could be punished instead of the listener."
CRETE "r I "VHIS ancient national custom prevailed with
X still greater force in Crete ; which island was
hence by many persons considered as the original
seat of the connection in question. Here too it was
disgraceful for a well-educated youth to be without
a lover ; and hence the party loved was termed
jcXftvoc, the praised; the lover being simply called
^lArjrwp. It appears that the youth was always
carried away by force, the intention of the ravisher
being previously communicated to the relations,
who however took no measures of precaution, and
only made a feigned resistance ; except when the
ravisher appeared, either in family or talent, un-
worthy of the youth. The lover then led him away
to his apartment (avSpaov), and afterwards, with
any chance companions, either to the mountains
or to his estate. Here they remained two months
(the period prescribed by custom), which were
passed chiefly in hunting together. After this time
had expired, the lover dismissed the youth, and at
his departure gave him, according to custom, an
ox, a military dress, and brazen cup, with other
things ; and frequently these gifts were increased
by the friends of the ravisher. The youth then sac-
rificed the ox to Jupiter, with which he gave a feast
18
Pagan & Early W^orld
to his companions : and now he stated how he had
been pleased with his lover ; and he had complete
liberty by law to punish any insult or disgraceful
treatment. It depended now on the choice of the
youth whether the connection should be broken
off or not. If it was kept up, the companion in arms
(TrapadraTTje), as the youth was then called, wore
the military dress which had been given him, and
fought in battle next his lover, inspired with double
valour by the gods of war and love, according to
the notions of the Cretans ; and even in man's age
he was distinguished by the first place and rank in
the course, and certain insignia worn about the
body.
"Institutipns, so systematic and regular as these,
did not exist in any Doric State except Crete and
Sparta ; but the feelings on which they were foun-
ded seem to have been common to all the Dorians.
The loves of Philolaus, a Corinthian of the family
of the Bacchiadae, and the lawgiver of Thebes, and
of Diocles the Olympic conqueror, lasted until
death ; and even their graves were turned towards
one another in token of their affection ; and an-
other person of the same name was honoured in
Megara, as a noble instance of self-devotion for the
object of his love." Ibid.
For an account of Philolaus and Diocles, Aris-
19
Friendship- Customs
totle (Pol. ii. 12) may be referred to. The second
Diocles was an Athenian who died in battle for the
youth he loved.
DIOCLES "TTIS tomb was honoured with the £vayt<r/uaTa of
_LA heroes, and a yearly contest for skill in kis-
sing formed part of his memorial celebration."
J.A.Symondi "A Problem in Greek Ethics " privately
printed, 1883; see also 'Theocritus, Idyll xii. infra.
fAHN, in his Albanesiscbe Studien, says
that the Dorian customs of comrade-
ship still flourish in Albania "just as
described by the ancients," and are
closely" entwined with the whole life of the people
— though he says nothing of any military signifi-
cation. It appears to be a quite recognised institution
for a young man to take to himself a youth or boy as
his special comrade. He instructs, and when neces-
sary reproves, the younger ; protects him, and
makes him presents of various kinds. The relation
generally, though not always ends with the mar-
riage of the elder. The following is reported by
Hahn as in the actual words of his informant (an
Albanian) : —
Pagan ^f Early World
Ci •/
"T OVE of this kind is occasioned by the sight ALBANIAN
• -> of a beautiful -youth ; who thus kindles in CUSTOMS
the lover a feeling of wonder and causes his heart
to open to the sweet sense which springs from the
contemplation of beauty. By degrees love steals
in and takes possession of the lover, and to such
a degree that all his thoughts and feelings are ab-
sorbed in it. When near the beloved he loses him-
self in the sight of him ; when absent he thinks of
him only." These loves, he continued, "are with a
few exceptions as pure as sunshine, and the highest
and noblest affections that the human heart can
entertain." Hahnyvo\. I, p. 166.
Hahn also mentions that troops of youths, like
the Cretan and Spartan agelae^ are formed in Alba-
nia, of twenty-five or thirty members each. The
comradeship usually begins during adolescence,
each member paying a fixed sum into a common
fund, and the interest being spent on two or three
annual feasts, generally held out of doors.
HE Sacred Band of Thebes, or The-
ban Band, was a battalion composed
entirely of friends and lovers ; and
forms a remarkable example of mili-
21
Friendship- Customs
tary comradeship. The references to it in later
Greek literature are very numerous, and there
seems no reason to doubt the general truth of the
traditions concerning its formation and its complete
annihilation by Philip of Macedon at the battle of
Chaeronea (B. c. 338). Thebes was the last strong-
hold of Hellenic independence, and with the The-
ban Band Greek freedom perished. But the mere
existence of this phalanx, and the fact of its renown,
show to what an extent comradeship was recognised
and prized as an institution among these peoples.
The following account is taken from Plutarch's Life
ofPelopidas, dough's translation : —
THE "/^ ORGIDAS, according to some, first formed
THEBAN ^Jf the Sacred Band of 300 chosen men, to whom
BAND as being a guard for the citadel the State allowed
provision, and all things necessary for exercise ;
and hence they were called the city band, as cita-
dels of old were usually called cities. Others say
that it was composed of young men attached to
each other by personal affection, and a pleasant
saying of Pammenes is current, that Homer's
Nestor was not well skilled in ordering an army,
when he advised the Greeks to rank tribe and tribe,
22
Varan §P Early W^orld
o ~s
and family and family, together, that so 'tribe
might tribe, and kinsmen kinsmen aid,' but that
he should have joined lovers and their beloved.
For men of the same tribe or family little value one
another when dangers press ; but a band cemented
together by friendship grounded upon love is
never to be broken, and invincible ; since the lov-
ers, ashamed to be base in sight of their beloved,
and the beloved before their lovers, willingly rush
into danger for the relief of one another. Nor can
that be wondered at since they have more regard
for their absent lovers than for others present ; as
in the instance of the man who, when his enemy
was going to kill him, earnestly requested him to
run him through the breast, that his lover might
not blush to see him wounded in the back. It is a
tradition likewise that lolaus, who assisted Her-
cules in his labours and fought at his side, was be-
loved of him ; and Aristotle observes that even in
his time lovers plighted their faith at lolaus' tomb.
It is likely, therefore, that this band was called sac-
red on this account ; as Plato calls a lover a divine
friend. It is stated that it was never beaten till the
battle at Chaeronea ; and when Philip after the
fight took a view of the slain, and came to the place
where the three hundred that fought his phalanx
lay dead together, he wondered, and understanding
23
Friendship- Customs
THE tnat it was the band of lovers, he shed tears and
THEBAN said, 'Perish any man who suspects that these men
BAND either did or suffered anything that was base.'
"It was not the disaster of Laius, as the poets im-
agine, that first gave rise to this form of attachment
among the Thebans, but their law-givers, design-
ing to soften whilst they were young their natural
fickleness, brought for example the pipe into great
esteem, both in serious and sportive occasions, and
gave great encouragement to these friendships in
the Palaestra, to temper the manner and character
of the youth. With a view to this, they did well
again to make Harmony, the daughter of Mars
and Venus, their tutelar deity ; since where force
and courage is joined with gracefulness and win-
ning behaviour, a harmony ensues that combines
all the elements of society in perfect consonance
and order.
"Gorgidas distributed this sacred Band all
through the front ranks of the infantry, and thus
made their gallantry less conspicuous ; not being
united in one body, but mingled with many others
of inferior resolution, they had no fair opportunity
of showing what they could do. But Pelopidas,
having sufficiently tried their bravery at Tegyrae,
where they had fought alone, and around his own
person, never afterwards divided them, but keep-
24
Pagan & Early World
o ./
ing them entire, and as one man, gave them the
first duty in the greatest battles. For as horses run
brisker in a chariot than single, not that their joint
force divides the air with greater ease, but because
being matched one against another circulation kin-
dles and enflames their courage ; thus, he thought,
brave men, provoking one another to noble ac-
tions, would prove most serviceable and most res-
olute where all were united together."
^TORIES of romantic friendship form
a staple subject of Greek literature,
and were everywhere accepted and
prized. The following quotations
from Athenaeus and Plutarch contain allusions to
the Theban Band, and other examples : —
" A ^^ t^ie Lacedaemonians offer sacrifices to ATHEN-
£\. Love before they go to battle, thinking that
safety and victory depend on the friendship of
those who stand side by side in the battle array.
. . . And the regiment among the Thebans, which
is called the Sacred Eand^ is wholly composed of
mutual lovers, indicating the majesty of the God,
as these men prefer a glorious death to a shameful
and discreditable life." Atben<eusy bk. xiii., ch. 12.
lolaus, above-mentioned, is said to have been the
Friendship- Customs
charioteer of Hercules, and his faithful companion.
As the comrade of Hercules he was worshipped be-
side him in Thebes, where the gymnasium was
named after him. Plutarch alludes to this friend-
ship again in his treatise on Love (Eroticusy par.
X7):—
IOLAUS " A ND as to the loves of Hercules, it is difficult
-I\. to record them because of their number ; but
those who think that lolaus was one of them do to
this day worship and honour him, and make their
loved ones swear fidelity at his tomb."
And in the same treatise : —
PLUT- "CONSIDER also how Love (Eros) excels in
ARCH ON \_j Warlike feats, and is by no means idle, as Eu-
LOVE npides called him, nor a carpet knight, nor 'sleep-
ing on soft maidens' cheeks.' For a man inspired
by Love needs not Ares to help him when he goes
out as a warrior against the enemy, but at the bid-
ding of his own god is 'ready' for his friend 'to go
through fire and water and whirlwinds.' And in
Sophocles' play, when the sons of Niobe are being
shot at and dying, one of them calls out for no
helper or assister but his lover.
"And you know of course how it was that Cleo-
machus, the Pharsalian, fell in battle. . . . When
26
Pagan @P Early World
o •/
the war between the Eretrians and Chalcidians was
at its height, Cleomachus had come to aid the
latter with a Thessalian force ; and the Chalcidian
infantry seemed strong enough, but they had great
difficulty in repelling the enemy's cavalry. So they
begged that high-souled hero, Cleomachus, to
charge the Eretrian cavalry first. And he asked the
youth he loved, who was by, if he would be a spec-
tator of the fight, and he saying he would, and
affectionately kissing him and putting his helmet
on his head, Cleomachus, with a proud joy, put
himself at the head of the bravest of the Thessa-
lians, and charged the enemy's cavalry with such
impetuosity that he threw them into disorder and
routed them ; and the Eretrian infantry also fleeing
in consequence, the Chalcidians won a splendid
victory. However, Cleomachus got killed, and
they show his tomb in the market place at Chalcis,
over which a huge pillar stands to this day." Erot-
icus, par. 1 7, trans. Bohns Classics.
And further on in the same : —
:< A ND among you Thebans, Pemptides, is it not
JL\. usual for the lover to give his boylove a com-
plete suit of armour when he is enrolled among the
men ? And did not the erotic Pammenes change
the disposition of the heavy-armed infantry, cen-
27 '
ATHEN-
ON THE
SAME
Friendship- Customs
suring Homer as knowing nothing about love,
because he drew up the Achaeans in order of battle
in tribes and clans, and did not put lover and love
together, that so * spear should be next to spear and
helmet to helmet' (Iliad^ xiii. 131), seeing that
love is the only invincible general. For men in
battle will leave in the lurch clansmen and friends,
aye, and parents and sons, but what warrior ever
broke through or charged through lover and love,
seeing that when there is no necessity lovers
frequently display their bravery and contempt
of life."
[E following is from the Deipnoso-
pbists of Athenaeus (bk.xiii.ch. 78) : —
'"OUT Hieronymus the Peripate-
JL/ tic says that the loves of youths
used to be much encouraged, for
this reason, that the vigour of the young and their
close agreement in comradeship have led to the
overthrow of many a tyranny. For in the presence
of his favorite a lover would rather endure any-
thing than earn the name of coward ; a thing which
was proved in practice by the Sacred Band, estab-
lished at Thebes under Epaminondas ; as well as
by the death of the Pisistratidae, which was brought
about by Harmodius and Aristogeiton.
28
Tagan §P Early W^orld
o ./
"And at Agrigentum in Sicily the same was
shown by the mutual love of Chariton and Melan-
ippus — of whom Melanippus was the younger
beloved, as Heraclides of Pontus tells in his Trea-
tise on Love. For these two having been accused
of plotting against Phalaris, and being put to tor-
ture in order to force them to betray their accom-
plices, not only did not tell, but even compelled
Phalaris to such pity of their tortures that he re-
leased them with many words of praise. Where-
upon Apollo, pleased at his conduct, granted to
Phalaris a respite from death ; and declared the
same to the men who inquired of the Pythian
priestess how they might best attack him. He also
gave an oracular saying concerning Chariton ....
* Blessed indeed was Chariton and Melanippus,
Pioneers of Godhead, and of mortals the one
most' beloved."'
Epaminondas, the great Theban general and
statesman, so we are told by the same author, ' ldplural
had for his young comrades Asopichus and Cephi-
sodorus, "the latter of whom fell with him at
Mantineia, and is buried near him."
29
Friendship- Customs
jHESE are mainly instances of what
might be called " military comrade-
iship," but as may be supposed,
friendship in the early world did not
rest on this alone. With the growth of culture
other interests came in ; and among the Greeks es-
pecially association in the pursuit of art or politics
or philosophy became a common ground. Parmen-
ides, the philosopher, whose life was held peculiarly
holy, loved his pupil Zeno (see Plato Parmy 127 A) :
PARMEN- "T)ARMENIDES and Zeno came to Athens, he
IDES AND JL said, at the great Panathenaean festival ; the
ZENO former was, at the time of his visit, about 65 years
old, very white with age, but well-favoured. Zeno
was nearly 40 years of age, of a noble figure and
fair aspect ; and in the days of his youth he was re-
ported to have been beloved of Parmenides."
Pheidias, the sculptor, loved Pantarkes, a youth
of Elis, and carved his portrait at the foot of the
Olympian Zeus (Pausanias v. n), and politicians
and orators like Demosthenes and ^Eschines were
proud to avow their attachments. It was in a house
30
Pagan ®P Early World
o S
of ill-fame, according to Diogenes Laertius (ii. 105)
that Socrates first met Phaedo : —
urT^HIS unfortunate youth was a native of Elis. PHAEDO
JL Taken prisoner in war, he was sold in the
public market to a slave dealer, who then acquired
the right by Attic law to engross his earnings for
his own pocket. A friend of Socrates, perhaps
Cebes, bought him from his master, and he became
one of the chief members of the Socratic circle. His
name is given to the Platonic dialogue on immor-
tality, and he lived to found what is called the
Eleo-Socratic School. No reader of Plato forgets
how the sage on the eve of his death stroked the
beautiful long hair of Phaedo, and prophesied that
he would soon have to cut it short in mourning for
his teacher." J. A. Symonds, A Problem in Greek
Ethics p. 58.
The relation of friendship to the pursuit of phil-
osophy is a favorite subject with Plato, and is illus-
trated by some later quotations (see infra ch. 2).
CONCLUDE the present section by
the insertion of three stories taken
from classical sources. Though of
a legendary character, it is probable
that they enshrine some memory or tradition of
31
Friendship- Customs
actual facts. The story of Hiirmodius and Aristo-
geiton at any rate is treated by Herodotus and
Thucydides as a matter of serious history. The
names of these two friends were ever on the lips of
the Athenians as the founders of the city's freedom,
and to be born of their blood was esteemed among
the highest of honours. But whether historical or
not, these stories have much the same value for us,
in so far as they indicate the ideals on which the
Greek mind dwelt, and which it considered possible
of realisation.
THE "^^fOW the attempt of Aristogeiton and Har-
STORY OF -*-^ m°dius arose out of a love affair, which I will
H ARMO- narrate at length ; and the narrative will show that
DIUS AND *ke Athenians themselves give quite an inaccurate
AR1STO- account or* their own tyrants, and of the incident
PFTTON i*1 question, and know no more than other Hel-
. * _j. . .. . . .
lenes. .risistratus died at an advanced age in pos-
session of the tyranny, and then, not as is the
common opinion Hipparchus, but Hippias (who
was the eldest of his sons) succeeded to his power.
"Harmodius was in the flower of his youth, and
Aristogeiton, a citizen of the middle class, became
his lover. Hipparchus made an attempt to gain
3*
Paran @f Early World
o */
the affections of Harmodius, but he would not
listen to him, and told Aristogeiton. The latter was
naturally tormented at the idea, and fearing that
Hipparchus, who was powerful, would resort to
violence, at once formed such a plot as a man in
his station might for the overthrow of the tyranny.
Meanwhile Hipparchus made another attempt;
he had no better success, and thereupon he deter-
mined, not indeed to take any violent step, but to
insult Harmodius in some underhand manner, so
that his motive could not be suspected.". . .
"When Hipparchus found his advances repelled cai administration
by Harmodius he carried out his intention of in- °^ l.hf ,. ,
i • . mi . n • Pisistratidae
suiting him. There was a young sister or his whom
Hipparchus and his friends first invited to come
and carry a sacred basket in a procession, and then
rejected her, declaring that she had never been in-
vited by them at all because she was unworthy.
At this Harmodius was very angry, and Aristo-
geiton for his sake more angry still. They and the
other conspirators had already laid their prepara-
tions, but were waiting for the festival of the great
Panathenaea, when the citizens who took part in
the procession assembled in arms ; for to wear
arms on any other day would have aroused sus-
picion. Harmodius and Aristogeiton were to be-
gin the attack, and the rest were immediately to
33 a SHKBT Fot R
Friendship- Customs
join in, and engage with the guards. The plot had
been communicated to a few only, the better to
avoid detection ; but they hoped that, however few
struck the blow, the crowd who would be armed,
although not in the secret, would at once rise and
assist in the recovery of their own liberties.
"The day of the festival arrived, and Hippias
went out of the city to the place called the Cerami-
cus, where he was occupied with his guards in
marshalling the procession. Harmodius and
Aristogeiton, who were ready with their daggers,
stepped forward to do the deed. But seeing one
of the conspirators in familiar conversation with
Hippias, who was readily accessible to all, they
took alarm and imagined that they had been be-
trayed, and were on the point of being seized.
Whereupon they determined to take their revenge
first on the man who had outraged them and way
the cause of their desperate attempt. So they
rushed, just as they were, within the gates. They
found Hipparchus near the Leocorium, as it was
called, and then and there falling upon him with
all the blind fury, one of an injured lover, the other
of a man smarting under an insult, they smote and
slew him. The crowd ran together, and so Aristo-
geiton for the present escaped the guards ; but he
was afterwards taken, and not very gently handled
34
&* Early World
*
(i.e., tortured]. Harmodius perished on the spot."
Tbuc: vi. 54-56, trans, by B. Jowett.
CT)HOCIS preserves from early times the mem- THE
JL ory of the union between Orestes and Pylades, STORY OF
who taking a god as witness of the passion between ORESTES
them, sailed through life together as though in one AND
boat. Both together put to death Klytemnestra, as PYLADES
though both were sons of Agamemnon ; and .fllgis-
thus was slain by both. Pylades suffered more than
his friend by the punishment which pursued Ores-
tes. He stood by him when condemned, nor did
they limit their tender friendship by the bounds of
Greece, but sailed to the furthest boundaries of the
Scythians — the one sick, the other ministering to
him. When they had come into the Tauric land
straightway they were met by the matricidal fury ;
and while the barbarians were standing round in a
circle Orestes fell down and lay on the ground,
seized by his usual mania, while Pylades * wiped
away the foam, tended his body, and covered him
with his well-woven cloak' — acting not only like a
lover but like a father.
"When it was determined that one should remain
to be put to death, and the other should go to My-
cenae to convey a letter, each wishes to remain for
the sake of the other, thinking that if he saves the
life of his friend he saves his own life. Orestes re-
35
Friendship- Customs
fused to take the letter, saying that Pylades was
more worthy to carry it, acting more like the lover
than the beloved. 'For,' he said/the slaying of this
man would be a great grief to me, as I am the cause
of these misfortunes.' And he added, 'Give the
tablet to him, for (turning to Pylades) I will send
thee to Argos, in order that it may be well with
thee ; as for me, let anyone kill me who desires it.'
"Such love is always like that; for when from boy-
hood a serious love has grown up and it becomes
adult at the age of reason, the long-loved object re-
turns reciprocal affection, and it is hard to deter-
mine which is the lover of which, for — as from a
mirror — the affection of the lover is reflected from
the beloved." 'Trans, from Lucians Amores, by W.
J. Baylis.
IAMON and Phintias, initiates in the Pytha-
gorean mysteries, contracted so faithful a
friendship towards each other, that when Dionysius
of Syracuse intended to execute one of them, and
he had obtained permission from the tyrant to re-
turn home and arrange his affairs before his death,
«"For the two men the other did not hesitate to give himself up as a
1Vhad "their posses- pledge of his friend's return." He whose neck had
sions in common." been in danger was now free ; and he who might
T A/* Ji /J ^ ^
Vita Pytfagora ^ave lived in safety was now in danger of death. So
bk. i. ch. 33. everybody, and especially Dionysius, were won-
36
D
Pagan & Early W^orld
o •/
dering what would be the upshot of this novel and THE
dubious affair. At last, when the day fixed was close STORY OF
at hand, and he had not returned, everyone con- DAMON
demned the one who stood security, for his stupid- AND
ity and rashness. But he insisted that he had no- PYTHIAS
thing to fear in the matter of his friend's constancy. (OR
And indeed at the same moment and the hour fixed PHINTIAS)
by Dionysius, he who had received leave, returned.
The tyrant, admiring the courage of both, remitted
the sentence which had so tried their loyalty, and
asked them besides to receive him in the bonds of
their friendship, saying that he would make his
third place in their affection agreeable by his utmost
goodwill and effort. Such indeed are the powers of
friendship : to breed contempt of death, to overcome
the sweet desire of life, to humanise cruelty, to turn
hate into love, to compensate punishment by lar-
gess ; to which powers almost as much veneration
is due as to the cult of the immortal gods. For if
with these rests the public safety, on those does pri-
vate happiness depend ; and as the temples are the
sacred domiciles of these, so of those are the loyal
hearts of men as it were the shrines consecrated by
some holy spirit." Valerius Maximusy bk. iv. ch. 7.
De Amiciti<£ Vinculo.
37
II.
The Vlace of Friendship in
Greek Life & Thought
The Place of Friendship in
Greek Life & Thought
J o
iHE extent to which the idea of friend-
ship (in a quite romantic sense) pen-
etrated the Greek mind is a thing very
difficult for us to realise ; and some
modern critics entirely miss this point. They laud
the Greek culture to the skies, extolling the warlike
bravery of the people, their enthusiastic political and
social sentiment, their wonderful artistic sense, and
so forth ; and at the same time speak of the stress
they laid on friendship as a little peculiarity of no
particular importance — not seeing that the latter was
the chief source of their bravery and independence,
one of the main motives of their art, and so far an or-
ganic part of their whole polity that it is difficult to
imagine the one without the other. The Greeks
Place of Friendship
themselves never made this mistake ; and their liter-
ature abounds with references to the romantic attach-
ment as the great inspiration of political and individ-
ual life. Plato, himself, may almost be said to have
founded his philosophy on this sentiment.
Nothing is more surprising to the modern than
to find Plato speaking, page after page, of Love, as
the safeguard of states and the tutoress of philoso-
phy, and then to discover that what we call love, i.e.,
the love between man and woman, is not meant at all
— scarcely comes within his consideration — but only
the love between men — what we should call roman-
tic friendship. His ideal of this latter love is ascetic ;
it is an absorbing passion, but it is held in strong con-
trol. The other love — the love of women — is for
him a mere sensuality. In this, to some extent, lies
the explanation of his philosophical position.
But it is evident that in this fact — in the fact that
among the Greeks the love of women was considered
for the most part sensual, while the romance of love
went to the account of friendship, we have the
strength and the weakness of the Greek civilisation.
42
in Greek Life & Thought
J o
Strength, because by the recognition everywhere of
romantic comradeship, public and private life was
filled by a kind of divine fire ; weakness, because by
the non-recognition of woman's equal part in such
comradeship, her saving, healing, and redeeming in-
fluence was lost, and the Greek culture doomed to be
to that extent one-sided. It will, we may hope, be
the great triumph of the modern love (when it be-
comes more of a true comradeship between man and
woman than it yet is) to give both to society and to
the individual the grandest inspirations, and perhaps
in conjunction with the other attachment, to lift the
modern nations to a higher level of political and ar-
tistic advancement than even the Greeks attained.
I quote one or two modern writers on the subject,
and then some passages from Plato and others indi-
cating the philosophy of friendship as entertained
among the Greeks.
43
Place of Friendship
JISHOP THIRLWALL, that excel-
lent thinker and scholar, in his History
of Greece (vol. i, p. 176) says: —
BISHOP ypt^i@ "f\NE of the noblest and most am-
TH1RL- **Q ^ \J iable sides of the Greek char-
WALL ON acter is the readiness with which it lent itself to con-
GREEK struct intimate and durable friendships ; and this is
FRIEND- a feature no less prominent in the earliest than in
SHIP the latest times. It was indeed connected with the
comparatively low estimation in which female so-
ciety was held ; but the devotedness and constancy
with which these attachments were maintained was
not the less admirable and engaging. The heroic
companions whom we find celebrated, partly by
Homer and partly in traditions, which if not of
equal antiquity were grounded on the same feeling,
seem to have but one heart and soul, with scarcely
a wish or object apart, and only to live, as they are
always ready to die, for one another. It is true that
the relation between them is not always one of
perfect equality : but this is a circumstance which,
while it often adds a peculiar charm to the poetical
description, detracts little from the dignity of the
idea which it presents. Such were the friendships of
Hercules and lolaus, of Theseus and Pirithous, of
Orestes and Pylades : and though these may owe
44
in Greek Life ®P Thought
the greater part of their fame to the later epic or
even dramatic poetry, the moral groundwork un-
doubtedly subsisted in the period to which the tra-
dition referred. The argument of the Iliad mainly
turns on the affection of Achilles for Patroclus —
whose love for the greater hero is only tempered by
reverence for his higher birth and his unequalled
prowess. But the mutual regard which united
Idomeneus and Meriones, Diomedes and Sthene-
lus — though, as the persons themselves are less im-
portant, it is kept more in the background — is
manifestly viewed by the poet in the same light.
The idea of a Greek hero seems not to have beeTT
thought complete, without such a brother in arms
by his side."
The following is from Ludwig Frey (Der Eroiund
die Kunst, p. 33) :—
" T ET it then be repeated : love for a youth was COM-
J-/ for the Greeks something sacred, and can on- PARED
ly be compared with our German homage to TO
women — say the chivalric love of mediaeval times.'* CHIVALRY
LOWES DICKINSON, in his Greek
View of Life, noting the absence of ro-
mance in the relations between men
and women of that civilisation, says :
45
Place of Friendship
EDUCA-«T^TEVERTHELESS, it would be a mistake to
TIONAL i. l| conclude, from these conditions, that the ele-
AND POL- ment of romance was absent from Greek life. The
ITICAL fact is simply that with them it took a different
VALUE form, that of passionate friendship between men.
Such friendships, of course, occur in all nations and
at all times, but among the Greeks they were, we
might say, an institution. Their ideal was the de-
velopment and education of the younger by the
older man, and in this view they were recognised
and approved by custom and law as an important
factor in the state." Greek View of Life, p. 167.
IO much indeed were the Greeks impressed with
the manliness of this passion, with its power to
prompt to high thought and heroic action, that
some of the best of them set the love of man for
man far above that of man for woman. The one,
they maintained, was primarily of the spirit, the
other primarily of the flesh; the one bent upon sha-
ping to the type of all manly excellence both the
body and the soul of the beloved, the other upon a
passing pleasure of the senses." Ibid, p. 172.
The following are some remarks of J. A. Symonds
on the same subject : —
PARTLY owing to the social habits of their
cities, and partly to the peculiar notions which
"S"
p
in Greek Life & Thought
v» J c*
they entertained regarding the seclusion of free RELATION
women in the home, all the higher elements of TO
spiritual and mental activity, and the conditions WOMEN
under which a generous passion was conceivable,
had become the exclusive privileges of men. It was
not that women occupied a semi-servile station, as
some students have imagined, or that within the
sphere of the household they were not the respec-
ted and trusted helpmates of men. But circum-
stances rendered it impossible for them to excite
romantic and enthusiastic passion. The exaltation
of the emotions was reserved for the male sex."
A Problem in Greek Ethics, p. 68.
And he continues : —
"OOCRATES therefore sought to direct and J. A. SYM-
Omoralise a force already existing. In the Pbxdrus ONDS
he describes the passion of love between man and ON
boy as a * mania, not different in quality from that SOCRATES
which inspires poets ; and after painting that fervid
picture of the lover, he declares that the true object
of a noble life can only be attained by passionate
friends, bound together in the chains of close yet
temperate comradeship, seeking always to advance
in knowledge, self-restraint, and intellectual illu-
mination. The doctrine of the Symposium is not dif-
ferent, except that Socrates here takes a higher
47
Place of Friendship
flight. The same love is treated as the method
whereby the soul may begin her mystic journey to
the region of essential beauty, truth, and goodness.
It has frequently been remarked that Plato's dia-
logues have to be read as poems even more than as
philosophical treatises; and if this be true at all, it is
particularly true of both the Ph<edrus and the Sym-
posium. The lesson which both essays seem inten-
ded to inculcate, is this : love, like poetry and pro-
phecy, is a divine gift, which diverts men from the
common current of their lives ; but in the right use
of this gift lies the secret of all human excellence.
The passion which grovels in the filth of sensual
grossness may be transformed into a glorious en-
enthusiasm, a winged splendour, capable of soaring
the contemplation of eternal verities."
N the Symposium or Banquet of Plato
(8.0.428 — B.C. 347), a supper party is
supposed, at which a discussion on
love and friendship takes place. The
friends present speak in turn — the enthusiastic
Phaedrus,the clear-headed Pausanias, the grave doc-
tor Eryximachus, the comic and acute Aristophanes,
the young poet Agathon ; Socrates, tantalising, sug-
gestive, and quoting the profound sayings of the
48
in Greek Life & "Thought
prophetess Diotima; and Alcibiades, drunk, and
quite ready to drink more ; — each in his turn, out
of the fulness of his heart, speaks ; and thus in this
most dramatic dialogue we have love discussed from
every point of view, and with insight, acumen, ro-
mance and humour unrivalled.
Phsedrus and Pausanias, in the two following
quotations, take the line which perhaps most thor-
oughly represents the public opinion of the day — as
to the value of friendship in nurturing a spirit of
honour and freedom, especially in matters military
and political : —
ttrinHUS numerous are the witnesses who ac- FROM THE
-L knowledge love to be the eldest of the gods. SPEECH
And not only is he the eldest, he is also the source QF
of the greatest benefits to us. For I know not any PHJEDRUS
greater blessing to a young man beginning life j]\j THE
than a virtuous lover, or to the lover than a be- SYMPOS-
loved youth. For the principle which ought to be
the guide of men who would nobly live — that prin-
ciple, I say, neither kindred, nor honour, nor
wealth, nor any other motive is able to implant so
well as love. Of what am I speaking? of the sense
of honour and dishonour, without which neither
49 a SHKET Fivu
Tlace of Friendship
states nor individuals ever do any good or great
work. And I say that a lover who is detected in do-
ing any dishonorable act, or submitting through
cowardice when any dishonour is done to him by
another, will be more pained at being detected by
his beloved than at being seen by his father, or
by his companions, or by anyone else. The beloved
too, when he is seen in any disgraceful situation,
has the same feeling about his lover. And if there
were only some way of contriving that a state or an
army should be made up of lovers and their loves,
they would be the very best governors of their own
city, abstaining from all dishonour, and emulating
one another in honour ; and when fighting at one
another's side, although a mere handful, they
would overcome the world. For what lover would
not choose rather to be seen by all mankind than
by his beloved, either when abandoning his post or
throwing away his arms ? He would be ready to die
a thousand deaths rather than endure this. Or who
would desert his beloved, or fail him in the hour of
danger ? The veriest coward would become an in-
spired hero, equal to the bravest, at such a time ;
love would inspire him. That courage which, as
Homer says, the god breathes into the soul of
heroes, love of his own nature infuses into the
lover." Symposium of Plato, trans. B. Jowett.
50
in Greek^ Life $§f Thought
" T N Ionia and other places, and generally in coun- SPEECH
JL tries which are subject to the barbarians, the OF
custom is held to be dishonorable ; loves of youths PAUSAN1 AS
share the evil repute of philosophy and gymnas-
tics, because they are inimical to tyranny ; for the
interests of rulers require that their subjects should
be poor in spirit, and that there should be no strong
bond of friendship or society among them, which
love above all other motives is likely to inspire, as
our Athenian tyrants learned by experience." Ibid.
JRISTOPHANES goes more deeply
into the nature of this love of which
they are speaking. He says it is a
profound reality — a deep and inti-
mate union, abiding after death, and making of the
lovers "one departed soul instead of two." But in
order to explain his allusion to "the other half" it
must be premised that in the earlier part of his speech
he has in a serio-comic vein pretended that human
beings were originally constructed double, with four
legs, four arms, etc. ; but that as a punishment for
their sins Zeus divided them perpendicularly, "as
folk cut eggs before they salt them," the males into
51
Of
LIBRARY
VI ace of Friendship
two parts, the females into two, and the hermaphro-
dites likewise into two — since when, these divided
people have ever pursued their lost halves, and
"thrown their arms around and embraced each
other, seeking to grow together again." And so,
speaking of those who were originally males, he says:
A ND these when they grow up are our states-
±\. men, and these only, which is a great proof of
the truth of what I am saying. And when they reach
manhood they are lovers of youth, and are not
naturally inclined to marry or beget children, which
they do, if at all, only in obedience to the law, but
they are satisfied if they may be allowed to live with
one another unwedded ; and such a nature is prone
to love and ready to return love, always embracing
that which is akin to him. And when one of them
finds his other half, whether he be a lover of youth
or a lover of another sort, the pair are lost in an
amazement of love and friendship and intimacy,
and one will not be out of the other's sight, as I may
say, even for a moment : they will pass their whole
lives together ; yet they could not explain what
they desire of one another. For the intense yearn-
ing that each of them has towards the other does
not appear to be the desire of lovers' intercourse,
in Greek^ Life & Thought
but of something else which the soul of either evi-
dently desires and cannot tell, and of which she
only has a dark and doubtful presentiment. Sup-
pose Hephaestus, with his instruments, to come to
the pair who are lying side by side and say to them,
'What do you people want of one another?' they
would be unable to explain. And suppose further
that when he saw their perplexity he said : 'Do you
desire to be wholly one ; always day and night to be
in one another's company ? for if this is what you
desire, I am ready to melt you into one and let you
grow together, so that being two you shall become
one, and while you live, live a common life as if
you were a single man, and after your death in the
world below still be one departed soul instead of
two — I ask whether this is what you lovingly de-
sire, and whether you are satisfied to attain this ?' —
there is not a man of them who when he heard the
proposal would deny or would not acknowledge
that this meeting and melting in one another's
arms, this becoming one instead of two, was the
very expression of his ancient need." Ibid.
^OCRATES, in his speech, and es-
pecially in the later portion of it where
he quotes his supposed tutoress Di-
otima, carries the argument up to its
53
*Place of Friendship
highest issue. After contending for the essentially
creative, generative nature of love, not only in the
Body but in the Soul, he proceeds to say that it is not
so much the seeking of a lost half which causes the
creative impulse in lovers, as the fact that in our
mortal friends we are contemplating (though un-
consciously) an image of the Essential and Divine
Beauty ; it is this that affects us with that wonderful
"mania," and lifts us into the region where we be-
come creators. And he follows on to the conclusion
that it is by wisely and truly loving our visible
friends that at last, after long long experience, there
dawns upon us the vision of that Absolute Beauty
which by mortal eyes must ever remain unseen : —
SPEECH "TTE who has been instructed thus far in the
OF X JL things of love, and who has learned to see
SOCRATES the beautiful in due order and succession, when he
comes towards the end will suddenly perceive a
nature of wondrous beauty .... beauty absolute,
separate, simple and everlasting, which without
diminution and without increase, or any change, is
imparted to the evergrowing and perishing beau-
ties of all other things. He who, from these ascen-
54
in Greek Life & Thought
J o
ding under the influence of true love, begins to
perceive that beauty, is not far from the end." Ibid.
This is indeed the culmination, for Plato, of all
existence — the ascent into the presence of that end-
less Beauty of which all fair mortal things are but the
mirrors. But to condense this great speech of So-
crates is impossible ; only to persistent and careful
reading (if even then) will it yield up all its treasures.
N the dialogue named Pb^drus the
same idea is worked out, only to some
extent in reverse order. As in the
Symposium the lover by rightly loving
atlast rises to the vision of the Supreme Beauty ; so
in the Pb<edrus it is explained that in reality every
soul has at some time seen that Vision (at the time,
namely, of its true initiation, when it was indeed
winged) — but has forgotten it ; and that it is the
dim reminiscence of that Vision, constantly working
within us, which guides us to our earthly loves and
renders their effect upon us so transporting. Long
ago, in some other condition of being, we saw
Beauty herself: —
55
Place of Friendship
SOCRAT LS « T) UT of beauty, I repeat again that we saw her
IN THE JD there shining in company with the celestial
PH.5DDRUS forms ; and coming to earth we find her here too,
shining in clearness through the clearest aperture
of sense. For sight is the keenest of our bodily sen-
ses ; though not by that is wisdom seen ; her love-
liness would have been transporting if there had
been a visible image of her, and the same is true of
the loveliness of the other ideas as well. But this is
the privilege of beauty, that she is the loveliest and
also the most palpable to sight. Now he who is not
newly initiated, or who has become corrupted, does
not easily rise out of this world to the sight of
true beauty in the other; he looks only at her
earthly namesake, and instead of being awed at the
sight of her, like a brutish beast he rushes on to
enjoy and beget ; he consorts with wantonness, and
is not afraid or ashamed of pursuing pleasure in
violation of nature. But he whose initiation is re-
cent, and who has been the spectator of many
glories in the other world, is amazed when he sees
anyone having a god-like face or form, which is the
expression of Divine Beauty; and at first a shudder
runs through him, and again the old awe steals
over him ; then looking upon the face of his be-
loved as of a god he reverences him, and if he were
not afraid of being thought a downright madman,
56
in Greek Life & Thought
j <5
he would sacrifice to his beloved as to the image
of a god." The Pb<edrus of Plato, trans. B. Jowett.
And again : —
' A ND so the beloved who, like a god, has re-
<L\. ceived every true and loyal service from his
lover, not in pretence but in reality, being also
himself of a nature friendly to his admirer, if in for-
mer days he has blushed to own his passion and
turned away his lover, because his youthful com-
panions or others slanderously told him that he
would be disgraced, now as years advance, at the
appointed age and time, is led to receive him into
communion. For fate which has ordained that
there shall be no friendship among the evil has also
ordained that there shall ever be friendship among
the good. And when he has received him into com-
munion and intimacy, then the beloved is amazed
at the goodwill of the lover ; he recognises that the
inspired friend is worth all other friendships or
kinships, which have nothing of friendship in
them in comparison. And when this feeling con-
tinues and he is nearer to him and embraces him,
in gymnastic exercises and at other times of meet-
ing, then does the fountain of that stream, which
Zeus when he was in love with Ganymede named
desire, overflow upon the lover, and some enters
SI
Place of Friendship
into his soul, and some when he is filled flows out
again ; and as a breeze or an echo rebounds from
the smooth rocks and returns whence it came, so
does the stream of beauty, passing the eyes which
are the natural doors and windows of the soul, re-
turn again to the beautiful one ; there arriving and
quickening the passages of the wings, watering
them and inclining them to grow, and filling the
soul of the beloved also with love." Ibid.
For Plato the real power which ever moves the
soul is this reminiscence of the Beauty which exists
before all worlds. In the actual world the soul lives
but in anguish, an exile from her true home ; but in
the presence of her friend, who reveals the Divine,
she is loosed from her suffering and comes to her
haven of rest.
SOCRATES " A ND wherever she [the soul] thinks that she
•*•*•
IN THE •*•*• w^ benold the beautiful one, thither in her
PHjEDRUS desire she runs. And when she has seen him, and
bathed herself with the waters of desire, her con-
straint is loosened, and she is refreshed, and has no
more pangs and pains ; and this is the sweetest of
all pleasures at the time, and is the reason why the
soul of the lover will never forsake his beautiful
one, whom he esteems above all ; he has forgotten
58
in Greek Life & Thought
mother and brethren and companions, and he
thinks nothing of the neglect and loss of his pro-
perty ; the rules and proprieties of life, on which
he formerly prided himself, he now despises, and
is ready to sleep like a servant, wherever he is
allowed, as near as he can to his beautiful one, who
is not only the object of his worship, but the only
physician who can heal him in his extreme agony."
Ibid.
another time, in the Banquet of
Xenophon, Socrates is again made
to speak at length on the subject of
Love — though not in so inspired a
strain as in Plato : —
"HP^RULY, to speak for one, I never remember THE
J. the time when I was not in love ; I know too BANQUET
that Charmides has had a great many lovers, and OF
being much beloved has loved again. As for XENO-
Critobulus, he is still of an age to love, and to be PHON
beloved ; and Nicerates too, who loves so passion-
ately his wife, at least as report goes, is equally be-
loved by her. . . . And as for you, Callias, you love,
as well as the rest of us ; for who is it that is igno-
rant of your love for Autolycus ? It is the town-
talk ; and foreigners, as well as our citizens, are
59
Place of Friendship
acquainted with it. The reason for your loving
him, I believe to be that you are both born of illus-
trious families; and at the same time are both
possessed of personal qualities that render you yet
more illustrious. For me, I always admired the
sweetness and evenness of your temper ; but much
more when I consider that your passion for Auto-
lycus is placed on a person who has nothing luxu-
rious or affected in him ; but in all things shows
a vigour and temperance worthy of a virtuous
soul ; which is a proof at the same time that if he
is infinitely beloved, he deserves to be so. I con-
fess indeed I am not firmly persuaded whether
there be but one Venus or two, the celestial and
the vulgar; and it may be with this goddess, as
with Jupiter, who has many different names
though there is still but one Jupiter. But I know
very well that both the Venuses have quite
different altars, temples and sacrifices. The vulgar
Venus is worshipped after a common negligent
manner; whereas the celestial one is adored in
purity and sanctity of life. The vulgar inspires
mankind with the love of the body only, but the
celestial fires the mind with the love or the soul,
with friendship, and a generous thirst after noble
actions. . . . Nor is it hard to prove, Callias, that
gods and heroes have always had more passion and
60
in Greek Life & Thought
J o
esteem for the charms of the soul, than those of the
body : at least this seems to have been the opinion
of our ancient authors. For we may observe in the
fables of antiquity that Jupiter, who loved several
mortals on account of their personal beauty only,
never conferred upon them immortality. Where-
as it was otherwise with Hercules, Castor, Pollux,
and several others ; for having admired and ap-
plauded the greatness of their courage and the
beauty of their minds, he enrolled them in the
number of the gods. . . . You are then infinitely
obliged to the gods, Callias, who have inspired you
with love and friendship for Autolycus, as they
have inspired Critobulus with the same for Aman-
dra ; for real and pure friendship knows no differ-
ence in sexes." Banquet of Xenophon § viii.
AUTARCH, who wrote in the first
century A.D. (nearly 500 years after
Plato), carried on the tradition of his
master, though with an admixture of
later influences ; and philosophised about friend-
ship, on the basis of true love being a reminiscence.
"r I \HE rainbow is I suppose a reflection caused
JL by the sun's rays falling on a moist cloud,
making us think the appearance is in the cloud.
61
Place of Friendship
PLU- Similarly erotic fancy in the case of noble souls
TARCH causes a reflection of the memory from things
PHILOSO- which here appear and are called beautiful to what
PHISES is really divine and lovely and felicitous and won-
derful. But most lovers pursuing and groping
after the semblance of beauty in youths and wo-
men, as in mirrors," can derive nothing more cer-
tain than pleasure mixed with pain. And this
seems the love-delirium of Ixion, who instead of
the joy he desired embraced only a cloud, as chil-
dren who desire to take the rainbow into their
hands, clutching at whatever they see. But differ-
ent is the behaviour of the noble and chaste lover :
for he reflects on the divine beauty that can only be
felt, while he uses the beauty of the visible body
only as an organ of the memory, though he em-
braces it and loves it, and associating with it is still
more inflamed in mind. And so neither in the body
do they sit ever gazing at and desiring this light,
nor after death do they return to this world again,
and skulk and loiter about the doors and bed-
chambers of newly-married people, disagreeable
ghosts of pleasure-loving and sensual men and
women, who do not rightly deserve the name of
«"For now we see by means of a mirror darkly (lit. enigmatically);
but then face to face ; now I know in part ; but then shall I know even
as also I am known." I Cor. xiii. 12.
62
in Greek Life @P Thought
lovers. For the true lover, when he has got into the
other world and associated with beauties as much
as is lawful, has wings and is initiated and passes
his time above in the presence of his Deity, dan-
cing and waiting upon him, until he goes back to
the meadows of the Moon and Aphrodite, and
sleeping there commences a new existence. But
this is a subject too high for the present occasion."
Plutarch's Eroticus § xx. trans. Bohns Classics.
III.
Poetry of Friendship
among Greeks & Romans
a SHEET Six
Poetry of Friendship
among Greeks & Romans
HE fact, already mentioned, that the
romance of love among the Greeks
was chiefly felt towards male friends,
naturally led to their poetry being
largely inspired by friendship ; and Greek literature
contains such a great number of poems of this sort,
that I have thought it worth while to dedicate the
main portion of the following section to quotations
from them. No translations of course can do justice
to the beauty of the originals, but the few specimens
given may help to illustrate the depth and tender-
ness as well as the temperance and sobriety which
on the whole characterised Greek feeling on this
subject, at any rate during the best period of Hel-
lenic culture. The remainder of the section is devo-
ted to Roman poetry of the time of the Caesars.
6?
'Poetry of Friendship
It is not always realised that the Iliad of Homer
turns upon the motive of friendship, but the ex-
tracts immediately following will perhaps make this
clear. E. F. M. Benecke in his Position of Women in
Greek Poetry (p. 76) says of the Iliad: —
MOTIVE " T T is a story of which the main motive is the love
OF A of Achilles for Patroclus. This solution is as-
HOMER'S toundingly simple, and yet it took me so long to
ILIAD bring myself to accept it that I am quite ready to
forgive anyone who feels a similar hesitation. But
those who do accept it cannot fail to observe, on
further consideration, how thoroughly suitable a
motive of this kind would be in a national Greek
epic. For this is the motive running through the
whole of Greek life, till that life was transmuted by
the influence of Macedonia. The lover-warriors
Achilles and Patroclus are the direct spiritual
ancestors of the sacred Band of Thebans, who died
to a man on the field of Chaeronaea."
The following two quotations are from The Greek
Poets by J. A. Symonds, ch. iii. p. 80 et seq. : —
"'"T^VHE Iliad therefore has for its whole subject
A the passion of Achilles — that ardent energy
or fiJjvtg of the hero which displayed itself first as
anger against Agamemnon, and afterwards as love
68
Greeks & Romans
for the lost Patroclus. The truth of this was per- j. A. SYM-
ceived by one of the greatest poets and profoundest ONDS
critics of the modern world, Dante. When Dante, ON THE
in the Inferno^ wished to describe Achilles, he SAME
wrote, with characteristic brevity : —
"Achille
Che per amore al fine combatteo."
("Achilles
Who at the last was brought to fight by love.")
"In this pregnant sentence Dante sounded the
whole depth of the Iliad. The wrath of Achilles for
Agamemnon, which prevented him at first from
fighting ; the love of Achilles, passing the love of
women, for Patroclus, which induced him to fore-
go his anger and to fight at last ; these are the two
poles on which the Iliad turns."
After his quarrel with Agamemnon, not even all
the losses of the Greeks and the entreaties of Aga-
memnon himself will induce Achilles to fight — not
till Patroclus is slain by Hector — Patroclus, his dear
friend "whom above all my comrades I honoured,
even as myself." Then he rises up, dons his armour,
and driving the Trojans before him revenges him-
self on the body of Hector. But Patroclus lies yet
Voetry of Friendship
unburied ; and when the fighting is over, to Achilles
comes the ghost of his dead friend : —
ACHILLES "HpHE son of Peleus, by the shore of the roaring
AND A sea lay, heavily groaning, surrounded by his
PATRO- Myrmidons ; on a fair space of sand he lay, where
CLUS the waves lapped the beach. Then slumber took
him, loosing the cares of his heart, and mantling
softly around him, for sorely wearied were his
radiant limbs with driving Hector on by windy
Troy. There to him came the soul of poor Patro-
clus, in all things like himself, in stature, and in the
beauty of his eyes and voice, and on the form was
raiment like his own. He stood above the hero's
head, and spake to him : —
'"Sleepest thou, and me hast thou forgotten,
Achilles ? Not in my life wert thou neglectful of
me, but in death. Bury me soon, that I may pass
the gates of Hades. Far off the souls, the shadows
of the dead, repel me, nor suffer me to join them
on the river bank ; but, as it is, thus I roam around
the wide-doored house of Hades. But stretch to
me thy hand I entreat ; for never again shall I re-
turn from Hades when once ye shall have given
me the meed of funeral fire. Nay, never shall we
sit in life apart from our dear comrades and take
counsel together. But me hath hateful fate envel-
70
Greeks & Romans
oped — fate that was mine at the moment of
my birth. And for thyself, divine Achilles, it is
doomed to die beneath the noble Trojan's wall.
Another thing I say to thee, and bid thee do it if
thou wilt obey me : — lay not my bones apart from
thine, Achilles, but lay them together ; for we were
brought up together in your house, when Mence-
tius brought me, a child, from Opus to your house,
because of woeful bloodshed on the day in which
I slew the son of Amphidamas, myself a child, not
willing it but in anger at our games. Then did the
horseman, Peleus, take me, and rear me in his
house, and cause me to be called thy squire. So
then let one grave also hide the bones of both of us,
the golden urn thy goddess-mother gave to thee.'
"Him answered swift-footed Achilles: —
'Why, dearest and most honoured, hast thou
hither come, to lay on me this thy behest? All
things most certainly will I perform, and bow to
what thou biddest. But stand thou near: even for
one moment let us throw our arms upon each
other's neck, and take our fill of sorrowful wailing.'
"So spake he, and with his outstretched hands he
clasped, but could not seize. The spirit, earthward,
like smoke, vanished with a shriek. Then all as-
tonished arose Achilles, and beat his palms to-
gether, and spake a piteous word : —
7*
Poetry of Friendship
'Heavens ! is there then, among the dead, soul
and the shade of life, but thought is theirs no more
at all ? For through the night the soul of poor Pat-
roclus stood above my head, waiting and sorrowing
loud, and bade me do his will; it was the very
semblance of himself/
"So spake he, and in the hearts of all of them he
raised desire of lamentation ; and while they were
yet mourning, to them appeared rose-fingered
dawn about the piteous corpse." Iliad, xxiii.
59 et seq.
LATO in the Symposium dwells ten-
derly on this relation between Ach-
illes and Patroclus : —
[ A ND great] "was the reward of
AROVF "^^ t^ie true ^ove °^ Achilles to~
' wards his lover Patroclus — his lover and not his
love (the notion that Patroclus was the beloved
one is a foolish error into which .ZEschylus has fal-
len, for Achilles was surely the fairer of the two,
fairer also than all the other heroes; and, as
Homer informs us, he was still beardless, and
younger far). And greatly as the gods honour the
virtue of love, still the return of love on the part of
the beloved to the lover is more admired and
valued and rewarded by them, for the lover has a
72
Greeks & Romans
nature more divine and worthy of worship. Now
Achilles was quite aware, for he had been told by
his mother, that he might avoid death and return
home, and live to a good old age, if he abstained
from slaying Hector. Nevertheless he gave his life
to revenge his friend, and dared to die, not only on
his behalf, but after his death. Wherefore the
gods honoured him even above Alcestis, and sent
him to the Islands of the Blest." Symposium, speech
ofPhtedrus, trans, by B. Jowett.
And on this passage Symonds has the following
note : —
"T)LATO, discussing the Myrmidones of JEs- CRITI-
jL chylus, remarks in the Symposium that the CISM OF
tragic poet was wrong to make Achilles the lover PLATO'S
of Patroclus, seeing that Patroclus was the elder of VIEW
the two, and that Achilles was the youngest and
most beautiful of all the Greeks. The fact however
is that Homer raises no question in our minds
about the relation of lover and beloved. Achilles
and Patroclus are comrades. Their friendship is
equal. It was only the reflective activity of the
Greek mind, working upon the Homeric legend
by the light of subsequent custom, which intro-
duced these distinctions." The Greek Poetsy ch. iii.
p. 103.
73
Poetry of Friendship
From the time of Homer onwards, Greek litera-
ture was full of songs celebrating friendship : —
ATHEN-" A ND in fact there was such emulation about
-IA. composing poems of this sort, and so far was
any one from thinking lightly of the amatory
poets, that ^Eschylus, who was a very great poet,
and Sophocles too introduced the subject or the
loves of men on the stage in their tragedies : the
one describing the love of Achilles for Patroclus,
and the other, in his Niobe, the mutual love of her
sons (on which account some have given an ill
name to that tragedy) ; and all such passages as
those are very agreeable to the spectators." Athen-
<eusy bk. xiii. ch. 75.
>NE of the earlier Greek poets was
Theognis (B.C. 550) whose Gnomae
or Maxims were a series of verses
mostly addressed to his young friend
Kurnus, whom by this means he sought to guide
and instruct out of the stores of his own riper ex-
perience. The verses are reserved and didactic for
the most part, but now and then, as in the following
passage, show deep underlying feeling : —
74
Greeks & Romans
*T O, I have given thee wings wherewith to fly FROM
A-/ Over the boundless ocean and the earth ; THEOG-
Yea, on the lips of many shalt thou lie
The comrade of their banquet and their mirth.
Youths in their loveliness shall make thee sound
Upon the silver flute's melodious breath ;
And when thou goest darkling underground
Down to the lamentable house of death,
Oh yet not then from honour shalt thou cease,
But wander, an imperishable name,
Kurnus, about the seas and shores of Greece,
Crossing from isle to isle the barren main.
Horses thou shalt not need, but lightly ride
Sped by the Muses of the violet crown,
And men to come, while earth and sun abide,
Who cherish song shall cherish thy renown.
Yea, I have given thee wings ! and in return
Thou givest me the scorn with which I burn.*'
Theognis Gnomai, lines 237-254,
trans, by G. Lowes Dickinson.
Theognis had his well-loved disci-
ples, so had the poetess Sappho (600
B.C.) Her devotion to her girl-friends
and companions is indeed proverbial.
75
Poetry of Friendship
SAPPHO«XTTHAT Alcibiades and Charmides and Phse-
V V drus were to Socrates, Gyrinna and Atthis
and Anactoria were to the Lesbian." Max Tyrius,
quoted in H. T. Whartoris Sappho y p. 23.
Perhaps the few lines of Sappho, translated or
paraphrased by Catullus under the title To Lesbia,
form the most celebrated fragment of her extant
work. They may be roughly rendered thus : —
TO"T)EER of all the gods unto me appeareth
LESBIA -I He of men who sitting beside thee heareth
Close at hand thy syllabled words sweet spoken,
Or loving laughter —
That sweet laugh which flutters my heart and
bosom.
For, at sight of thee, in an instant fail me
Voice and speech, and under my skin there courses
Swiftly a thin flame ;
Darkness is on my eyes, in my ears a drumming,
Drenched in sweat my frame, my body trembling ;
Paler ev'n than grass — 'tis, I doubt, but little
From death divides me."
76
Greeks & Romans
iVERAL of the odes of Anacreon
(B.C. 520) are addressed to his young
friend Bathyllus. The following short
*one has been preserved to us by Ath-
enaeus (bk. xiii. § 17): —
"f\ BOY, with virgin-glancing eye,
V-/ I call thee, but thou dost not hear;
Thou know'st not how my soul doth cry BATHYL-
For thee, its charioteer."
Anacreon had not the passion and depth of Sap-
pho, but there is a mark of genuine feeling in some
of his poems, as in this simple little epigram : —
|N their hindquarters horses PIGRAM
Are branded oft with fire, ON
And anyone knows a Parthian LOVERS
Because he wears a tiar;
And I at sight of lovers
Their nature can declare,
For in their hearts they too
Some subtle flame-mark bear.'*
The following fragment is from Pindar's Ode to
his young friend Theoxenos — in whose arms Pin-
dar is said to have died (B.C. 442) : —
77
o
PINDAR
TO
THEOX-
ENOS
cc
Poetry of Friendship
OSOUL, 'tis thine in season meet,
To pluck of love the blossom sweet,
When hearts are young :
But he who sees the blazing beams,
The light that from that forehead streams,
And is not stung ; —
Who is not storm-tossed with desire, —
Lo ! he, I ween, with frozen fire,
Of adamant or stubborn steel
Is forged in his cold heart that cannot feel."
Trans, by J. Aldington Symondsy
The Greek Poetsy vol. i, p. 286.
LATO'S epigrams on Aster and Aga-
thon are well known. The two first-
quoted make a play of course on the
name Aster (star).
To Aster:
EPI- "'TT^HOU wert the morning star among the living,
GRAMS 1 Ere thy fair light had fled ;
OF Now, having died, thou art as Hesperus, giving
PLATO New splendour to the dead."
(Shelley.)
78
Greeks ^f Romans
To the same:
<<rT^HOU at the stars dost gaze, who art my star
A — O would that I were
Heaven, to gaze on thee, ever with thousands of
eyes."
To Agathon :
"HT^HEE as I kist, behold ! on my lips my own
JL soul was trembling;
For, bold one, she had come, meaning to find her
way through."
There are many other epigrams and songs on the
same subject from the Greek writers. The following
is by Meleager (a native of Gadara in Palestine)
about 60 B.C., and one of the sweetest and most
human of the lyric poets: —
"O MORTALS crossed in love ! the Southwind, MELEA-
^J see! GER
That blows so fair for sailor folk, hath ta'en
Half of my soul, Andragathos, from me.
Thrice happy ships, thrice blessed billowy main,
And four times favored wind that bears the youth,
O would I were a Dolphin ! so, in truth,
High on my shoulders ferried he should come
To Rhodes, sweet haunt of boys, his island-home."
From the Greek Anthology, ii. 402.
79
Poetry of Friendship
Also from the Greek Anthology : —
EPIGRAM «/^V SAY, and again repeat, fair, fair — and still
\~J I will say it —
How fair, my friend, and good to see, thou art ;
On pine or oak or wall thy name I do not blazon —
Love has too deeply graved it in my heart."
"T)ERHAPS the most beautiful [says J. A. Sy-
JL monds] of the sepulchral epigrams is one by
an unknown writer, of which I here give a free
paraphrase. Anth. Pal.y vii. 346 : —
EPITAPH 'Of our great love, Parthenophil,
ANONY- This little stone abideth still
MOUS Sole sign and token :
I seek thee yet, and yet shall seek,
Tho' faint mine eyes, my spirit weak
With prayers unspoken.
Meanwhile best friend of friends, do thou,
If this the cruel fates allow,
By death's dark river,
Among those shadowy people, drink
No drop for me on Lethe's brink :
Forget me never!"
The Greek Poefs, vol. 2, p. 298.
80
Greeks &* Romans
HEOCRITUS, though coming late
in the Greek age (about 300 B.C.)
when Athens had yielded place to
Alexandria, still carried on the Greek
tradition in a remarkable way. A native of Syracuse,
he caught and echoed in a finer form the life and
songs of the country folk of that region — them-
selves descendants of Dorian settlers. Songs and
ballads full of similar notes linger among the Greek
peasants, shepherds and fisher-folk, even down to
the present day.
The following poem (trans, by M. J. Chapman,
1836) is one of the best known and most beautiful
of his Idyls : —
IDYL XII.
" A RT come, dear youth ? two days and nights THEOCRI-
.TYaway! TUS
(Who burn with love, grow aged in a day.) IDYL XII.
As much as apples sweet the damson crude
Excel ; the blooming spring the winter rude ;
In fleece the sheep her lamb; the maid in sweetness
The thrice-wed dame ; the fawn the calf in fleet-
ness;
0T
a SHEET SEVEN
Poetry of friendship
The nightingale in song all feathered kind —
So much thy longed-for presence cheers my mind.
To thee I hasten, as to shady beech,
The traveller, when from the heaven's reach
The sun fierce blazes. May our love be strong,
To all hereafter times the theme of song !
'Two men each other loved to that degree,
That either friend did in the other see
A dearer than himself. They lived of old
Both golden natures in an age of gold.'
O father Zeus ! ageless immortals all !
Two hundred ages hence may one recall,
Down-coming to the irremeable river,
This to my mind, and this good news deliver :
'E'en now from east to west, from north to south,
Your mutual friendship lives in every mouth.'
This, as they please, th' Olympians will decide :
Of thee, by blooming virtue beautified,
My glowing song shall only truth disclose ;
With falsehood's pustules I'll not shame my nose.
If thou dost sometime grieve me, sweet the plea-
sure
Of reconcilement, joy in double measure
To find thou never didst intend the pain,
And feel myself from all doubt free again.
82
Greeks & Romans
And ye Megarians, at Nisaea dwelling,
Expert at rowing, mariners excelling,
Be happy ever ! for with honours due
Th' Athenian Diocles, to friendship true
Ye celebrate. With the first blush of spring
The youth surround his tomb : there who shall
bring
The sweetest kiss, whose lip is purest found,
Back to his mother goes with garlands crowned.
Nice touch the arbiter must have indeed,
And must, methinks, the blue-eyed Ganymede
Invoke with many prayers — a mouth to own
True to the touch of lips, as Lydian stone
To proof of gold — which test will instant show
The pure or base, as money changers know."
The following Idyl, of which I append a render-
ing, is attributed to Theocritus : —
IDYL XXIX.
"r I ^HEY say, dear boy, that wine and truth agree ;
J. And, being in wine, I'll tell the truth to thee —
Yes, all that works in secret in my soul.
'Tis this : thou dost not love me with thy whole
Untampered heart. I know ; for half my time
Is spent in gazing on thy beauty's prime ;
83
Poetry of Friendship
IDYL The other half is nought. When thou art good,
XXIX. My days are like the gods' ; but when the mood
Tormenting takes thee, 'tis my night of woe.
How were it right to vex a lover so ?
Take my advice, my lad, thine elder friend,
'Twill make thee glad and grateful in the end :
In one tree build one nest, so no grim snake
May creep upon thee. For to-day thou'lt make
Thy home on one branch, and to-morrow changing
Wilt seek another, to what's new still ranging;
And should a stranger praise your handsome face,
Him more than three-year-proven friend you'll
grace,
While him who loved you first you'll treat as cold
As some acquaintanceship of three days old.
Thou fliest high, methinks, in love and pride;
But I would say : keep ever at thy side
A mate that is thine equal ; doing so,
The townsfolk shall speak well of thee alway,
And love shall never visit thee with woe —
Love that so easily men's hearts can flay,
And mine has conquered that was erst of steel.
Nay, by thy gracious lips I make appeal :
Remember thou wert younger a year agone
And we grow grey and wrinkled, all, or e'er
We can escape our doom ; of mortals none
His youth retakes again, for azure wings
84
Greeks & Romans
Are on her shoulders, and we sons of care
Are all too slow to catch such flying things.
Mindful of this, be gentle, is my prayer,
And love me, guileless, ev'n as I love thee ;
So when thou hast a beard, such friends as were
Achilles and Patroclus we may be."
ION was a poet of about the same
period as Theocritus, but of whom
little is known. The following is a
fragment translated by A. Lang: —
">^ W I
"TTAPPY are they that love, when with equal BION
-Ll love they are rewarded. Happy was Theseus,
when Pirithous was by his side, yea tho' he went
down to the house of implacable Hades. Happy
among hard men and inhospitable was Orestes, for
that Pylades chose to share his wanderings. And he
was happy, Achilles ^acides, while his darling
lived, — happy was he in his death, because he
avenged the dread fate of Patroclus." Theocritus^
Bion and MoschuS) Golden Treasury series, p. 182.
The beautiful Lament for Bion by Moschus is in-
teresting in this connection, and should be com-
Poetry of Friendship
pared with Shelley's lament for Keats in Adonais —
for which latter poem indeed it supplied some
suggestions : —
LAMENT "^VTE mountain valleys, pitifully groan !
FOR BION X Rivers and Dorian springs for Bion weep !
BY Ye plants drop tears ! ye groves lamenting moan !
MOSCHUS Exhale your life, wan flowers ; your blushes deep
In grier, anemonies and roses, steep !
In softest murmurs, Hyacinth ! prolong
The sad, sad woe thy lettered petals keep ;
Our minstrel sings no more his friends among
Sicilian muses! now begin the doleful song."
M. J. Chapman trans, in the
Greek Pastoral Poets, 1836.
The allusion to Hyacinth is thus explained by
Chapman : —
STORY OF"
HYA-
TT YACINTHUS, a Spartan youth, the son
JL JL of Clio, was in great favour with Apollo.
CINTHUS Zephyrus, being enraged that he preferred Ap-
ollo to him, blew the discus when flung by
Apollo, on a day that Hyacinthus was playing at
discus-throwing with that god, against the head
of the youth, and so killed him. Apollo, being
86
Greeks & Romans
unable to save his life, changed him into the flower
which was named after him, and on whose petals
the Greeks fancied they could trace the notes of
grief, at, ai.a A festival called the Hyacinthia was "Seen within the
1 i j r .1 j • i j.e ' flower we call
celebrated for three days in each year at Sparta, in Larkspur
honour of the god and his unhappy favorite." Note
to MoschuSy Idyl iii.
The story of Apollo and Hyacinth is gracefully
told by Ovid, in the tenth book of his Metamor-
phoses : —
"AyTIDWAY betwixt the past and coming night TOLD BY
J.VJL Stood Titana when the pair, their limbs un- OVID
robed,
And glist'ning with the olive's unctuous juice,
In friendly contest with the discus vied."
[The younger one is struck by the discus ; and
like a fading flower]
"To its own weight unequal drooped the head
Of Hyacinth ; and o'er him wailed the god : —
Liest thou so, CEbalia's child, of youth
Untimely robbed, and wounded by my fault —
At once my grief and guilt ? — This hand hath dealt
Poetry of Friendship
Thy death ! 'Tis I who send thee to the grave !
And yet scarce guilty, unless guilt it were
To sport, or guilt to love thee ! Would this life
Might thine redeem, or be with thine resigned !
But thou — since Fate denies a god to die —
Be present with me ever ! Let thy name
Dwell ever in my heart and on my lips,
Theme of my lyre and burden of my song ;
And ever bear the echo of my wail
Writ on thy new-born flower ! The time shall come
When, with thyself associate, to its name
The mightiest of the Greeks shall link his own.
Prophetic as Apollo mourned, the blood
That with its dripping crimson dyed the turf
Was blood no more : and sudden sprang to life
A flower."
Ovid's Metamorphoses trans.
H. King, London, 1871.
Roman literature, generally, as
'might be expected, with its more
materialistic spirit, the romance of
friendship is little dwelt upon ;
though the grosser side of the passion, in such
writers as Catullus and Martial, is much in evi-
Greeks & Romans
dence. Still we find in Virgil a notable instance. His
2nd Eclogue bears the marks of genuine feeling ;
and, according to some critics, he there under the
guise of Shepherd Corydon's love for Alexis
celebrates his own attachment to the youthful
Alexander : —
"f^ORYDON, keeper of cattle, once loved the VIRGIL
\Jt fair lad Alexis; ECLOGUE
But he, the delight of his master, permitted no II.
hope to the shepherd.
Corydon, lovesick swain, went into the forest of
beeches,
And there to the mountains and woods — the one
relief of his passion —
With useless effort outpoured the following artless
complainings : —
Alexis, barbarous youth, say, do not my mournful
lays move thee?
Showing me no compassion, thou'lt surely compel
me to perish.
Even the cattle now seek after places both cool and
shady ;
Even the lizards green conceal themselves in the
thorn-bush. >
89
Poetry of Friendship
Thestylis, taking sweet herbs, such as garlic and
thyme, for the reapers
Faint with the scorching noon, doth mash them
and bray in a mortar.
Alone in the heat of the day am I left with the
screaming cicalas,
While patient in tracking thy path, I ever pursue
thee, BeloveU"
Tram, by J. W. Baylis.
There is a translation of this same 2nd Eclogue,
by Abraham Fraunce (1591) which is interesting
not only on account of its felicity of phrase,
but because, as in the case of some other Elizabe-
than hexameters, the metre is ruled by quantity, i.e.,
length of syllables, instead of by accent. The follow-
ing are the first five lines of Fraunce's translation : —
CORYDON "QILLY shepherd Corydon lov'd hartyly fayre
AND O lad Alexis,
ALEXIS His master's dearling, but saw noe matter of
hoping ;
Only amydst darck groves thickset with broade-
shadoe beech-trees
90
Greeks & Romans
Dayly resort did he make, thus alone to the woods,
to the mountayns,
With broken speeches fond thoughts there vaynly
revealing."
TULLUS also (b. B.C. 87) has some
verses of real feeling : —
UINTIUS, if 'tis thy wish and CATUL-
will LUS TO
That I should owe my eyes to thee, QUINTIUS
Or anything that's dearer still,
If aught that's dearer there can be ;
Then rob me not of that I prize,
Of the dear form that is to me,
Oh ! far far dearer than my eyes,
Or aught, if dearer aught there be."
Catullus, trans. Hon. J. Lamb, 1821.
' T F all complying, thou would'st grant fO
J. Thy lovely eyes to kiss, my fair, JUVEN-
Long as I pleased ; oh ! I would plant TIUS
Three hundred thousand kisses there.
Nor could I even then refrain,
Nor satiate leave that fount of blisses,
Poetry of Friendship
Tho' thicker than autumnal grain
Should be our growing crop of kisses."
(Ibid.)
TO " T ONG at our leisure yesterday
LICINIUS A-V Idling, Licinius, we wrote
Upon my tablets verses gay,
Or took our turns, as fancy smote,
At rhymes and dice and wine.
But when I left, Licinius mine,
Your grace and your facetious mood
Had fired me so, that neither food
Would stay my misery, nor sleep
My roving eyes in quiet keep.
But still consumed, without respite,
I tossed about my couch in vain
And longed for day — if speak I might,
Or be with you again.
But when my limbs with all the strain
Worn out, half dead lay on my bed,
Sweet friend to thee this verse I penned,
That so thou mayest condescend
To understand my pain.
So now, Licinius, beware!
And be not rash, but to my prayer
A gracious hearing tender ;
92
Greeks & Romans
Lest on thy head pounce Nemesis:
A goddess sudden and swift she is —
Beware lest thou offend her!"
The following little poem is taken from Martial :
S a vineyard breathes, whose boughs with MARTIAL
grapes are bending, TO
Or garden where are hived Sicanian bees; DIADU-
As upturned clods when summer rain 's descending MENOS
Or orchards rich with blossom-laden trees ;
So, cruel youth, thy kisses breathe — so sweet —
Would'st thou but grant me all their grace,
complete!"
93
IV.
Friendship in Early
Christian & Medueval Times
Friendship in Early
Christian & Mediaeval Times
[E quotations we have given from
Plato and others show the very high
[ideal of friendship which obtained in
• the old world, and the respect ac-
corded to it. With the incoming of the Christian
centuries, and the growth of Alexandrian and
Germanic influences, a change began to take place.
Woman rose to greater freedom and dignity and
influence than before. The romance of love began to
centre round her." The days of chivalry brought a «Benecke,
... f . . . _,, Woman in
new devotion into the world, and the Church ex- Greek Poetry,
alted the Virgin Mother to the highest place in tSs^mSce'0'
heaven. Friendship between men ceased to be re- m °reek
garded in the old light — i.e., as a thing of deep
97 a SHKBT EIGHT
Friendship
feeling, and an important social institution. It was
even, here and there, looked on with disfavour —
and lapses from the purity or chastity of its standard
were readily suspected and violently reprobated.
Certainly it survived in the monastic life for a long
period ; but though inspiring this to a great extent,
its influence was not generally acknowledged. The
Family, in the modern and more limited sense of
the word (as opposed to the clan), became the re-
cognised unit of social life, and the ideal centre of all
good influences (as illustrated in the worship of the
Holy Family). At the same time, by this very
shrinkage of the Family, as well as by other in-
fluences, the solidarity of society became to some
extent weakened, and gradually the more commu-
nistic forms of the early world gave place to the
individualism of the commercial period.
The special sentiment of comrade-love or attach-
ment (being a thing inherent in human nature)
remained of course through the Christian centuries,
as before, and unaltered — except that being no
longer recognised it became a private and personal
98
Early Christian & Mediceval
affair, running often powerfully enough beneath the
surface of society, but openly unacknowledged, and
so far deprived of some of its dignity and influence.
Owing to this fact there is nothing, for this period,
to be quoted in the way of general ideal or public
opinion on the subject of friendship, and the follow-
ing sections therefore become limited to the expres-
sion of individual sentiments and experiences, in
prose and poetry. These we find, during the mediae-
val period, largely colored by religion; while at
the Renaissance and afterwards they are evidently
affected by Greek associations.
i OLLOWING are some passages from
S. Augustine: —
"TN those years when I first began SAINT
JL to teach in my native town, I had AUGUS-
made a~rnend, one who through having the same TINE
interests was very dear to me, one of my own age,
and like me in the first flower of youth. We had
grown up together, and went together to school,
and used to play together. But he was not yet so
great a friend as afterwards, nor even then was our
friendship true ; for friendship is not true unless
99
Friendship
Thou cementest it between those who are united
to Thee by that 'love which is shed abroad in our
hearts by the Holy Ghost which is given unto us.'
Yet our friendship was but too sweet, and fermen-
ted by the pursuit of kindred studies. For I had
turned him aside from the true faith (of which as
a youth he had but an imperfect grasp) to perni-
cious and superstitious fables, for which my moth-
er grieved over me. And now in mind he erred
with me, and my soul could not endure to be
separated from him. But lo, Thou didst follow
close behind Thy fugitives, Thou — both God of
vengeance and fountain of mercies — didst convert
us by wonderful ways ; behold, Thou didst take
him out of this life, when scarcely a year had our
close intimacy lasted — sweet to me beyond the
sweetness of my whole life
"No ray of light pierced the gloom with which
my heart was enveloped by this grief, and wher-
ever I looked I beheld death. My native place was
a torment to me, and my father's house strangely
joyless; and whatever I had shared with him,
without him was now turned into a huge torture.
My longing eyes sought him everywhere, and
found him not ; and I hated the very places, be-
cause he was not in them, neither could they say to
me 'he is coming,' as they used to do when he was
100
Early Christian & Mediaeval
alive and was absent. And I became a great puzzle
to myself, and I asked my soul why it was so sad,
and why so disquieted within me ; and it knew not
what to answer. And if I said 'Trust thou in God,'
it rightly did not obey ; for that dearest one whom
it had lost was both truer and better than that
phantasm in which it was bidden to trust. Weeping
was the only thing which was sweet to me, and it
succeeded my friend in the dearest place in my
heart." S. Augustine, Confessions, bk. 4, ch. iv.
Trans, by Rev. W. H. Hutchings, M.A.
CT WAS miserable, and miserable is every soul SAINT
J. which is fettered by the love of perishable AUGUS-
things ; he is torn to pieces when he loses them, TINE
and then he perceives how miserable he was in
reality while he possessed them. And so was I
then, and I wept most bitterly, and in that bitter-
ness I found rest. Thus was I miserable, and that
miserable life I held dearer than my friend. For
though I would fain have changed it, yet to it I
clung even more than to him ; and I cannot say
whether I would have parted with it for his sake,
as it is related, if true, that Orestes and Pylades
were willing to do, for they would gladly have
died for each other, or together, for they preferred
death to separation from each other. But in me
a feeling which I cannot explain, and one of a con-
101
Friendship
tradictory nature had arisen ; for I had at once an
unbearable weariness of living, and a fear of dying.
For I believe the more I loved him, the more
I hated and dreaded death which had taken him
from me, and regarded it as a most cruel enemy ;
and I felt as if it would soon devour all men, now
that its power had reached him. . . . For I mar-
velled that other mortals lived, because he whom
I had loved, without thought of his ever dying,
was dead ; and that I still lived — I who was an-
other self — when he was gone, was a greater mar-
vel still. Well said a certain one of his friend,
'Thou half of my soul ;' for I felt that his soul and
mine were 'one soul in two bodies': and therefore
life was to me horrible, because I hated to live as
half of a life ; and therefore perhaps I feared to die,
lest he should wholly die whom I had loved so
greatly." Ibidy ch. vi.
is interesting to see, in these ex-
tracts from S. Augustine, and in
those which follow from Monta-
lembert, the points of likeness and
difference between the Christian ideal of love and
that of Plato. Both are highly transcendental, both
seem to contemplate an inner union of souls, be-
102
Early Christian & Mediaeval
yond the reach of space and time ; but in Plato the
union is in contemplation of the Eternal Beauty,
while in the Christian teachers it is in devotion to a
personal God.
"TF inanimate nature was to them an abundant MONTA-
JL source of pleasure they had a life still more LEMBERT
lively and elevated in the life of the heart, in the QN THE
double love which burned in them — the love of MONKS
their brethren inspired and consecrated by the
love of God." Monks of the Westy introdn., ch. v.
"Tj^ VERYTHING invited and encouraged them
Jt-v to choose one or several souls as the intimate
companions of their life. . . . And to prove how
little the divine love, thus understood and prac-
tised, tends to exclude or chill the love of man for
man, never was human eloquence more touching
or more sincere than in that immortal elegy by
which S. Bernard laments a lost brother snatched
by death from the cloister : — cFlow, flow my tears,
so eager to flow ! he who prevented your flowing
is here no more ! It is not he who is dead, it is I who
now live only to die. Why, O why have we loved,
and why have we lost each other.'" Ibid.
"r 1 ^HE mutual affection which reigned among
-1 the monks flowed as a mighty stream through
103
Friendship
the annals of the cloister. It has left its trace even
in the formulas,' collected with care by modern
erudition. . . . The correspondence of the most
illustrious, of Geoffrey de Vendome, of Pierre le
Ve'ne' rable, and of S. Bernard, give proofs of it at
every page." Ibid.
iINT ANSELM'S letters to brother
monks are full of expressions of the
same ardent affection. Montalembert
'gives several examples: —
SAINT "QOULS well-beloved of my soul," he wrote to
ANSELM O two near relatives whom he wished to draw to
Bee, "my eyes ardently desire to behold you ; my
arms expand to embrace you ; my lips sigh for
your kisses ; all the life that remains to me is con-
sumed with waiting for you. I hope in praying,
and I pray in hoping — come and taste how gra-
cious the Lord is — you cannot fully know it while
you find sweetness in the world."
TO HIS "'T7VAR from the eyes, far from the heart' say the
FRIEND -T vulgar. Believe nothing of it ; if it was so, the
LAN- farther you were distant from me the cooler my
FRANC l°ve f°r vou would be ; whilst on the contrary,
the less I can enjoy your presence, the more the
desire of that pleasure burns in the soul of your
friend."
104
Early Christian & Mediaeval
urT^O Gondulf, Anselm 1 put no other or TO
J. longer salutations at the head of my letter, GON-
because I can say nothing more to him whom DULPH
I love. All who know Gondulph and Anselm
know well what this means, and how much love is
understood in these two names." . . . "How could
I forget thee ? Can a man forget one who is placed
like a seal upon his heart ? In thy silence I know
that thou lovest me ; and thou also, when I say no-
thing, thou knowest that I love thee. Not only
have I no doubt of thee, but I answer for thee that
thou art sure of me. What can my letter tell thee
that thou knowest not already, thou who art my
second soul ? Go into the secret place of thy heart,
look there at thy love for me, and thou shalt see
mine for thee." . . . "Thou knewest how much
I love thee, but I knew it not. He who has sep-
arated us has alone instructed me how dear to me
thou wert. No, I knew not before the experience
of thy absence how sweet it was to have thee, how
bitter to have thee not. Thou hast another friend
whom thou hast loved as much or more than me to
console thee, but I have no longer thee ! — thee !
thee ! thou understandest ? and nothing to replace
thee. Those who rejoice in the possession of thee
may perhaps be offended by what I say. Ah ! let
them content themselves with their joy, and per-
mit me to weep for him whom I ever love."
105
Friendship
[E story of Amis and Amile, a me-
diaeval legend, translated by William
jMorris (as well as by Walter Pater)
>from the Bibliotheca Etzeviriana, is
very quaint and engaging in its old-world extrava-
gance and supernaturalism : —
THE A MIS and Amile were devoted friends, twins
STORY OF JT\. in resemblance and life. On one occasion,
AMIS having strayed apart, they ceased not to seek each
AND other for two whole years. And when at last they
AMILE met "they lighted down from their horses, and
embraced and kissed each other, and gave thanks
to God that they were found. And they swore
fealty and friendship and fellowship perpetual,
the one to the other, on the sword of Amile,
wherein were relics." Thence they went together
to the court of "Charles, king of France."
Here soon after, Amis took Amile's place in a
tournament, saved his life from a traitor, and won
for him the King's daughter to wife. But so it hap-
pened that, not long after, he himself was stricken
with leprosy and brought to Amile's door. And
when Amile and his royal bride knew who it was
they were sore grieved, and they brought him in
and placed him on a fair bed, and put all that they
106
Early Christian ^f Mediaeval
had at his service. And it came to pass one night
"whenas Amis and Amile lay in one chamber
without other company, that God sent to Amis
Raphael his angel, who said to him: cSleepest thou,
Amis?' And he, who deemed that Amile had
called to him, answered: *I sleep not, fair sweet
fellow.' Then the angel said to him : 'Thou hast
answered well, for thou art the fellow of the citi-
zens of heaven, and thou hast followed after Job,
and Thoby in patience. Now I am Raphael, an
angel of our Lord, and am come to tell thee of a
medicine for thine healing, whereas he hath heard
thy prayers. Thou shalt tell to Amile thy fellow,
that he slay his two children and wash thee in their
blood, and thence thou shalt get the healing of
thy body.'"
Amis was shocked when he heard these words,
and at first refused to tell Amile ; but the latter
had also heard the angel's voice, and pressed him
to tell. Then when he knew he too was sorely
grieved. But at last he determined in his mind not
even to spare his children for the sake of his friend,
and going secretly to their chamber he slew them,
and bringing some of their blood washed Amis —
who immediately was healed. He then arrayed
Amis in his best clothes and, after going to the
church to give thanks, they met Amile's wife who
107
Friendship
(not knowing all) rejoiced greatly too. But Amile,
going apart again to the children's chamber to
weep over them, found them at play in bed, with
only a thread of crimson round their throats to
mark what had been done !
The two knights fell afterwards and were killed
in the same battle; "for even as God had joined
them together by good accord in their life-days,
so in their death they were not sundered." And a
miracle was added, for even when they were
buried apart from each other the two coffins leapt
together in the night and were found side by side
in the morning.
Of this story Mr. Jacobs, in his introduction to
William Morris' translation, says : "Amis and Amil
were the David and Jonathan, the Orestes and
Pylades, of the mediaeval world." There were some
thirty other versions of the legend "in almost all
the tongues of Western and Northern Europe" —
their "peerless friendship" having given them a
place among the mediaeval saints. (See Old French
Romances trans, by William Morris, London, 1896.)
108
Eastern Countries
>T may not be out of place here, and
before passing on to the times of the
Renaissance and Modern Europe, to
give one or two extracts relating to
Eastern countries. The honour paid to friendship
in Persia, Arabia, Syria and other Oriental lands
has always been great, and the tradition of this
attachment there should be especially interesting to
us, as having arisen independently of classic or
Christian ideals. The poets of Persia, Saadi and
Jelal-ud-din Rumi (i3th cent.),Hafiz (i4th cent.),
Jami (i5th cent.), and others, have drawn much of
their inspiration from this source ; but unfortunate-
ly for those who cannot read the originals, their
work has been scantily translated, and the trans-
lations themselves are not always very reliable.
The extraordinary way in which, following the
method of the Sufis, and of Plato, they identify the
mortal and the divine love, and see in their beloved
an image or revelation of God himself, makes their
poems difficult of comprehension to the Western
109
Friendship
mind. Apostrophes to Love, Wine, and Beauty
often, with them, bear a frankly twofold sense,
material and spiritual. To these poets of the mid-
region of the earth, the bitter antagonism between
matter and spirit, which like an evil dream has
haunted so long both the extreme Western and the
extreme Eastern mind, scarcely exists ; and even the
body "which is a portion of the dust-pit" has
become perfect and divine.
" TT* VERY form you see has its archetype in the
KJ placeless world. . . .
From the moment you came into the world of
being
A ladder was placed before you that you might
escape (ascend).
First you were mineral, later you turned to plant,
Then you became an animal : how should this be
a secret to you ?
Afterwards you were made man, with knowledge,
reason, faith;
Behold the body, which is a portion of the dust-
pit, how perfect it has grown !
When you have travelled on from man, you will
doubtless become an angel ;
no
Eastern Countries
After that you are done with earth : your station is
in heaven.
Pass again even from angelhood : enter that ocean,
That your drop may become a sea which is a hun-
dred seas of 'Oman.'"
From the Divani Shamsi Tabriz of
Jalalu-ddin Rumt, trans, by R.
A. Nicholson.
"''TWERE better that the spirit which wears
A not true love as a garment
Had not been : its being is but shame.
Be drunken in love, for love is all that exists. . . .
Dismiss cares and be utterly clear of heart,
Like the face of a mirror, without image or picture.
When it becomes clear of images, all images are
contained in it." Ibid.
"T TAPPY the moment when we are seated in the
J. J- palace, thou and I,
With two forms and with two figures, but with
one soul, thou and I." Ibid.
a man came and knocked at the door of
his friend.
His friend said, 'Who art thou, O faithful one?'
He said, c'Tis I.' He answered, 'There is no
admittance.
in
Friendship
There is no room for the raw at my well-cooked
feast.
Naught but fire of separation and absence
Can cook the raw one and free him from hypocrisy!
Since thy j^fhas not yet left thee,
Thou must be burned in fiery flames.'
The poor man went away, and for one whole year
Journeyed burning with grief for his friend's
absence.
His heart burned till it was cooked ; then he went
again
And drew near to the house of his friend.
He knocked at the door in fear and trepidation
Lest some careless word should fall from his lips.
His friend shouted, 'Who is that at the door?'
He answered, ''Tis thou who art at the door, O
beloved ! '
The friend said, 'Since 'tis I, let me come in,
There is not room for two I's in one house.' '
From the Masnavi of Jalalu-ddin
\urni, trans, by E. H. WTilnfield.
>ME short quotations here following
are taken from Flowers culled from
Persian Gardens (Manchester, 1 872) :
"T7VERYONE, whether he be
abstemious or self-indulgent
112
Eastern Countries
is searching after the Friend. Every place may be
the abode of love, whether it be a mosque or a sy-
nagogue. . . . On thy last day, though the cup be in
thy hand, thou may'st be borne away to Paradise
even from the corner of the tavern." Hafiz.
" T HAVE heard a sweet word which was spoken
J. by the old man of Canaan (Jacob) — 'No
tongue can express what means the separation of
friends." Hafiz.
""VT EITHER of my own free will cast I myself
J.^1 into the fire ; for the chain of affection was
laid upon my neck. I was still at a distance when
the fire began to glow, nor is this the moment that
it was lighted up within me. Who shall impute it
to me as a fault, that I am enchanted by my friend,
that I am content in casting myself at his feet?"
Saadi.
Hahn in his Albanesische Studien, already quoted
(p. 20), gives some of the verses of Nee, in or Nesim
Bey, a Turco-Albanian poet, of which the following
is an example : —
"TITHATE'ER, my friend, or false or true,
VV The world may tell thee, give no ear,
For to separate us, dear,
The world will say that one is two.
1 J 3 a SHEET NINE
Friendship
Who should seek to separate us
May he never cease to weep.
The rain at times may cease ; but he
In Summer's warmth or Winter's sleep
May he never cease to weep."
ESIDES literature there is no doubt a
vast amount of material embedded in
the customs and traditions of these
countries and awaiting adequate re-
cognition and interpretation. The following quo-
tations may afford some glimpses of interest.
Suleyman the Magnificent. — The story of Suley-
man's attachment to his Vezir Ibrahim is told as
follows by Stanley Lane-Poole: —
SULEY- "C ULEYMAN, great as he was, shared his great-
MAN AND *^ ness with a second mind, to which his reign
IBRAHIM owed much of its brilliance. The Grand Vezir
Ibrahim was the counterpart of the Grand Mon-
arch Suleyman. He was the son of a sailor at Parga,
and had been captured by corsairs, by whom he
was sold to be the slave of a widow at Magnesia.
Here he passed into the hands of the young prince
Suleyman, then Governor of Magnesia, and soon
his extraordinary talents and address brought him
promotion. . . . From being Grand Falconer on the
114
Eastern Countries
accession of Suleyman, he rose to be first minister
and almost co-Sultan in 1523.
"He was the object of the Sultan's tender regard :
an emperor knows better than most men how soli-
tary is life without friendship and love, and Suley-
man loved this man more than a brother. Ibrahim
was not only a friend, he was an entertaining and
instructive companion. He read Persian, Greek
and Italian ; he knew how to open unknown worlds
to the Sultan's mind, and Suleyman drank in his
Vezir's wisdom with assiduity. They lived to-
gether : their meals were shared in common ; even
their beds were in the same room. The Sultan gave
his sister in marriage to the sailor's son, and Ibra-
him was at the summit of power." Turkey , Story of
Nations series, p. 174.
. S. BUCKINGHAM, in his Travels
in Assyria, Media and Persia, speaking
1 of his guide whom he had engaged at
Bagdad, and who was supposed to
have left his heart behind him in that city, says : —
" A MIDST all this I was at a loss to conceive
±\. how the Dervish could find much enjoyment
[in the expedition] while laboring under the strong
passion which I supposed he must then be feeling
"5
Friendship
STORY for the object of his affections at Bagdad, whom he
OF A had quitted with so much reluctance. What was
BAGDAD my surprise however on seeking an explanation of
DERVISH this seeming inconsistency, to find it was the son,
and not the daughter, of his friend Elias who held
so powerful a hold on his heart. I shrank back from
the confession as a man would recoil from a ser-
pent on which he had unexpectedly trodden . . .
but in answer to enquiries naturally suggested by
the subject he declared he would rather suffer
death than do the slightest harm to so pure, so
innocent, so heavenly a creature as this. . . .
"I took the greatest pains to ascertain by a severe
and minute investigation, how far it might be pos-
sible to doubt of the purity of the passion by which
this Affgan Dervish was possessed, and whether
it deserved to be classed with that described as pre-
vailing among the ancient Greeks ; and the result
fully satisfied me that both were the same. Ismael
was however surprised beyond measure when I as-
sured him that such a feeling was not known at all
among the peoples of Europe." Travels, &c.y 2nd
edition, vol. i, p. 159.
ar~pVHE Dervish added a striking instance of the
-L force of these attachments, and the sympathy
which was felt in the sorrows to which they led, by
the following fact from his own history. The place
116
Eastern Countries
of his residence, and of his usual labour, was near AN-
the bridge of the Tigris, at the gate of the Mosque OTHER
of the Vizier. While he sat here, about five or six STORY
years since, surrounded by several of his friends
who came often to enjoy his conversation and
beguile the tedium of his work, he observed, pas-
sing among the crowd, a young and beautiful
Turkish boy, whose eyes met his, as if by destiny,
and they remained fixedly gazing on each other for
some time. The boy, after £ blushing like the first
hue of a summer morning,' passed on, frequently
turning back to look on the person who had regar-
ded him so ardently. The Dervish felt his heart
* revolve within him,' for such was his expression,
and a cold sweat came across his brow. He hung
his head upon his graving-tool in dejection, and ex-
cused himself to those about him by saying he felt
suddenly ill. Shortly afterwards the boy returned,
and after walking to and fro several times, drawing
nearer and nearer, as if under the influence of some
attracting charm, he came up to his observer and
said, *Is it really true, then, that you love me?'
'This,' said Ismael, 'was a dagger in my heart;
I could make no reply.' The friends who were near
him, and now saw all explained, asked him if there
had been any previous acquaintance existing be-
tween them. He assured them that they had never
117
Friendship
seen each other before. 'Then,' they replied, 'such
an event must be from God.'
"The boy continued to remain for a while with
this party, told with great frankness the name and
rank of his parents, as well as the place of his resi-
dence, and promised to repeat his visit on the fol-
lowing day. He did this regularly for several
months in succession, sitting for hours by the
Dervish, and either singing to him or asking him
interesting questions, to beguile his labours, until
as Ismael expressed himself, 'though they were
still two bodies they became one soul.' The youth
at length fell sick, and was confined to his bed,
during which time his lover, Ismael, discontinued
entirely his usual occupations and abandoned him-
self completely to the care of his beloved. He
watched the changes of his disease with more than
the anxiety of a parent, and never quitted his bed-
side, night or day. Death at length separated them;
but even when the stroke came the Dervish could
not be prevailed on to quit the corpse. He con-
stantly visited the grave that contained the re-
mains of all he held dear on earth, and planting
myrtles and flowers there after the manner of the
East, bedewed them daily with his tears. His
friends sympathised powerfully in his distress,
which he said 'continued to feed his grief until he
118
Eastern Countries
pined away to absolute illness, and was near follow-
ing the fate of him whom he deplored." /<£/W, p. 1 60.
TT^ROM all this, added to many other examples EXPLAN-
X/ of a similar kind, related as happening be- ATI ON
tween persons who had often been pointed out to
me in Arabia and Persia, I could no longer doubt
the existence in the East of an affection for male
youths, of as pure and honorable a kind as that
which is felt in Europe for those of the other
sex . . . and it would be as unjust to suppose that
this necessarily implied impurity of desire as to
contend that no one could admire a lovely coun-
tenance and a beautiful form in the other sex, and
still be inspired with sentiments of the most pure
and honorable nature towards the object of his
admiration." Ibid, p. 163.
E powerful reason why this passion may
exist in the East, while it is quite unknown
in the West, is probably the seclusion of women in
the former, and the freedom of access to them in
the latter. . . . Had they [the Asiatics] the unres-
trained intercourse which we enjoy with such su-
perior beings as the virtuous and accomplished
females of our own country they would find no-
thing in nature so deserving of their love as
these." Ibid, p. 165.
119
V.
The Renaissance
and ^Modern Times
The Renaissance
and Modern Times
, ITH the Renaissance, and the impe-
tus it gave at that time to the study
of Greek and Roman models, the
exclusive domination of Christian-
ity and the Church was broken. A literature of
friendship along classic lines began to spring up.
Montaigne (b. 1533) was saturated with classic
learning. His essays were doubtless largely formed
upon the model of Plutarch. His friendship with
Stephen de la Boetie was evidently of a romantic
and absorbing character. It is referred to in the fol-
lowing passage by William Hazlitt ; and the des-
cription of it occupies a large part of Montaigne's
Essay on Friendship.
123
«"Deia
ir^er?t-ud»
Volontaire
Friendship
MON-urT^HE most important event of his counsellor's
TAIGNE A life at Bordeaux was the friendship which he
AND there formed with Stephen de la Boetie, an affec-
STEPHEN tion which makes a streak of light in modern bio-
DE LA graphy almost as beautiful as that left us by Lord
BOETIE Brook and Sir Philip Sydney. Our essayist and his
friend esteemed, before they saw, each other. La
Boetie had written a little work" in which Mon-
taigne recognised sentiments congenial with his
own, and which indeed bespeak a soul formed in
the mould of classic times. Of Montaigne, la
Boetie had also heard accounts, which made him
11111- i • « «
eager to behold him, and at length they met at
a large entertainment given by one of the magis-
trates of Bordeaux. They saw and loved, and were
thenceforward all in all to each other. The picture
that Montaigne in his essays draws of this friend-
ship is in the highest degree beautiful and touch-
ing ; nor does la Boetie's idea of what is due to this
sacred bond betwixt soul and soul fall far short of
the grand perception which filled the exalted mind
of his friend. . . . Montaigne married at the age of
33, but, as he informs us, not of his own wish or
choice. c Might I have had my wish,' says he,
*I would not have married Wisdom herself if she
would have had me.'" Life ofMontaignt, by
Hazlitt.
124
Renaissance & Modern limes
The following is from Montaigne's Essay, bk. I,
ch. xxvii: —
" A S to marriage, besides that it is a covenant, MON-
±\. the making of which is only free, but the con- TAIGNE
tinuance in it forced and compelled, having an- ON
other dependence than that of our own free will, FRIEND-
and a bargain moreover commonly contracted to SHIP
other ends, there happen a thousand intricacies in
it to unravel, enough to break the thread, and to
divert the current, of a lively affection : whereas
friendship has no manner of business or traffic with
anything but itself. . . . For the rest, what we com-
monly call friends and friendships are nothing but
an acquaintance and connection, contracted either
by accident or upon some design, by means of
which there happens some little intercourse be-
twixt our souls : but, in the friendship I speak of,
they mingle and melt into one piece, with so
universal a mixture that there is left no more sign
of the seam by which they were first conjoined. If
any one should importune me to give a reason
why I loved him [Stephen de la Boetie] I feel it
could no otherwise be expressed than by making
answer, * Because it was he; because it was I.*
There is, beyond what I am able to say, I know
not what inexplicable and inevitable power that
brought on this union. We sought one another
125
Friendship
long before we met, and from the characters we
heard of one another, which wrought more upon
our affections than in reason mere reports should
do, and, as I think, by some secret appointment of
heaven ; we embraced each other in our names ;
and at our first meeting, which was accidentally at
a great city entertainment, we found ourselves so
mutually pleased with one another — we became
at once mutually so endeared — that thenceforward
nothing was so near to us as one another. . . .
"Common friendships will admit of division,
one may love the beauty of this, the good humour
of that person, the liberality of a third, the paternal
affection of a fourth, the fraternal love of a fifth,
and so on. But this friendship that possesses the
whole soul, and there rules and sways with an ab-
solute sovereignty, can admit of no rival. ... In
good earnest, if I compare all the rest of my life
with the four years I had the happiness to enjoy
the sweet society of this excellent man, 'tis nothing
but smoke, but an obscure and tedious night.
From the day that I lost him I have only led a sor-
rowful and languishing life ; and the very plea-
sures that present themselves to me, instead of
administering anything of consolation, double my
affliction for his loss. We were halves throughout,
and to that degree that, methinks, by outliving
him I defraud him of his part."
126
Renaissance ^2? Modern Times
HILIP SIDNEY, born 1554, was
remarkable for his strong personal
attachments. Chief among his allies
were his school-mate and distant rel-
ative, Fulke Greville (born in the same year as him-
self), and his college friend Edward Dyer (also
about his own age). He wrote youthful verses to
both of them. The following, according to the
fashion of the age, are in the form of an invocation
to the pastoral god Pan : —
for my two loves* sake, SIDNEY
In whose love I pleasure take ; GRE V ILLE
Only two do me delight ANE
With their ever-pleasing sight ; DYER
Of all men to thee retaining
Grant me with these two remaining."
An interesting friendship existed also between Sid-
ney and the well-known French Protestant, Hubert
Languet — many years his senior — whose conver-
sation and correspondence helped much in the for-
mation of Sidney's character. These two had shared
127
Friendship
together the perils of the massacre of S. Bartholo-
mew, and had both escaped from France across the
Rhine to Germany, where they lived in close inti-
macy at Frankfort for a length of time ; and after
this a warm friendship and steady correspondence —
varied by occasional meetings — continued between
the two until Languet's death. Languet had been
Professor of Civil Law at Padua, and from 1 550 for-
wards was recognised as one of the leading political
agents of the Protestant Powers.
PHILIP"rT^HE elder man immediately discerned in Sid-
SIDNEY JL ney a youth of no common quality, and the
AND attachment he conceived for him savoured of ro-
HUBERT mance. We possess a long series of Latin letters
LANGUET from Languet to his friend, which breathe the ten-
derest spirit of affection, mingled with wise coun-
sel and ever watchful thought for the young man's
higher interests. . . . There must have been some-
thing inexplicably attractive in his [Sidney's]
person and his genius at this time ; for the tone of
Languet's correspondence can only be matched
by that of Shakespeare in the sonnets written for
his unknown friend." Sir Philip Sidney, English
Men of Letters Series, pp. 27, 28.
128
Renaissance & Modern Times
Of this relation Fox Bourne says : —
' XT O love-oppressed youth can write with more
.L^l earnest passion and more fond solicitude,
or can be troubled with more frequent fears and
more causeless jealousies, than Languet, at this
time 55 years old, shows in his letters to Sidney,
now 19."
iT may be appropriate here to intro-
duce two or three sonnets from
Michel Angelo (b. 1475). Michel
Angelo, one of the greatest, perhaps
the greatest, artist of the Italian Renaissance, was
deeply imbued with the Greek spirit. His concep-
tion of Love was close along the line of Plato's. For
him the body was the symbol, the expression, the
dwelling place of some divine beauty. The body
may be loved, but it should only be loved as a sym-
bol, not for itself. Diotima in the Symposium had said
that in our mortal loves we first come to recognise
(dimly) the divine form of beauty which is Eternal.
Maximus Tyrius (Dissert, xxvi. 8) commenting on
this, confirms it, saying that nowhere else but in the
1 ^ 9 a SHEET TEN
Friendship
human form, "the loveliest and most intelligent of
bodily creatures," does the light of divine beauty
shine so clear. Michel Angelo carried on the con-
ception, gave it noble expression, and held to it
firmly in the midst of a society which was certainly
willing enough to love the body (or try to love it)
merely for its own sake. And Giordano Bruno
(b. 1550) at a later date wrote as follows: —
" A LL the loves — if they be heroic and not
JL\. purely animal, or what is called natural, and
slaves to generation as instruments in some way
of nature — have for object the divinity, and tend
towards divine beauty, which first is communica-
ted to, and shines in, souls, and from them or
rather through them is communicated to bodies ;
whence it is that well-ordered affection loves the
body or corporeal beauty, insomuch as it is an in-
dication of beauty of spirit." Gli Eroici Furori (dial,
iii. 13), trans. L. Williams.
HE labours of Von Scheffler and
others have now pretty conclusive-
ly established that the love-poems of
Michel Angelo were for the most
130
Renaissance & Modern Times
part written to male friends — though this fact was
disguised by the pious frauds of his nephew, who
edited them in the first instance. Following are
three of his sonnets, translated by J. A. Symonds.
It will be seen that the last line of the first contains
a play on the name of his friend : —
To Tommaso de* Cavalieri:
A CHE PIU DEBB'IO.
"'ITTHY should I seek to ease intense desire MICHEL
VV With still more tears and windy words of ANGELO'S
grief, SONNETS
When heaven, or late or soon, sends no relief
To souls whom love hath robed around with
fire.
Why need my aching heart to death aspire,
When all must die? Nay death beyond belief
Unto these eyes would be both sweet and brief,
Since in my sum of woes all joys expire !
Therefore because I cannot shun the blow
I rather seek, say who must rule my breast,
Gliding between her gladness and her woe?
If only chains and bands can make me blest,
No marvel if alone and bare I go
An arm£d Knight's captive and slave confessed."
Friendship
NON VIDER GLI OCCHI MIEI.
O mortal thing enthralled these longing eyes
When perfect peace in thy fair face I found ;
But far within, where all is holy ground,
My soul felt Love, her comrade of the skies :
For she was born with God in Paradise ;
Nor all the shows of beauty shed around
This fair false world her wings to earth have
bound ;
Unto the Love of Loves aloft she flies.
Nay, things that suffer death quench not the fire
Of deathless spirits ; nor eternity
Serves sordid Time, that withers all things rare.
Not love but lawless impulse is desire :
That slays the soul ; our love makes still more
fair
Our friends on earth, fairer in death on high."
VEGGIO NEL TUO BEL VISO.
<TT*ROM thy fair face I learn, O my loved lord,
JL That which no mortal tongue can rightly say ;
The soul imprisoned in her house of clay,
Holpen by thee to God hath often soared :
And tho' the vulgar, vain, malignant horde
Attribute what their grosser wills obey,
Yet shall this fervent homage that I pay,
This love, this faith, pure joys for us afford.
132
Renaissance & Modern Times
Lo, all the lovely things we find on earth,
Resemble for the soul that rightly sees,
That source of bliss divine which gave us birth :
Nor have we first fruits or remembrances
Of heaven elsewhere. Thus, loving loyally,
I rise to God and make death sweet by thee."
,ICHARD BARNFIELD, one of the
Elizabethan singers (b. 1574) wrote
a long poem, dedicated to "The
Ladie Penelope Rich" and entitled
"The Affectionate Shepheard," which he describes
as "an imitation of Virgil in the 2nd Eclogue, of
Alexis." I quote the first two stanzas : —
I.
"OCARCE had the morning starre hid from the RICHARD
O light BARN-
Heaven's crimson Canopie with stars bespangled, FIELD
But I began to rue th' unhappy sight
Of that fair boy that had my heart intangled ;
Cursing the Time, the Place, the sense, the sin ;
I came, I saw, I view'd, I slipped in.
133
Friendship
II.
If it be sin to love a sweet-fac'd Boy,
(Whose amber locks trust up in golden tramels
Dangle adown his lovely cheekes with joye
When pearle and flowers his faire haire enamels)
If it be sin to love a lovely Lad,
Oh then sinne I, for whom my soule is sad."
These stanzas, and the following three sonnets
(also by Barnfield) from a series addressed to a
youth, give a fair sample of a considerable class of
Elizabethan verses, in which classic conceits were
mingled with a certain amount of real feeling : —
SONNET IV.
BARN- "nr^WO stars there are in one fair firmament
FIELD'S A (Of some intitled Ganymede's sweet face)
SONNETS Which other stars in brightness do disgrace,
As much as Po in cleanness passeth Trent.
Nor are they common-natur'd stars ; for why,
These stars when other shine vaile their pure
light,
And when all other vanish out of sight
They add a glory to the world's great eie :
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By these two stars my life is only led,
In them I place my joy, in them my pleasure,
Love's piercing darts and Nature's precious
treasure,
With their sweet food my fainting soul is fed :
Then when my sunne is absent from my sight
How can it chuse (with me) but be darke night?"
SONNET XVIII.
'1VTOT Megabetes, nor Cleonymus
.LN (Of whom great Plutarch makes such
mention,
Praysing their faire with rare invention),
As Ganymede were halfe so beauteous.
They onely pleased the eies of two great kings,
But all the world at my love stands amazed,
Nor one that on his angel's face hath gazed,
But (ravisht with delight) him presents bring :
Some weaning lambs, and some a suckling kyd,
Some nuts, and fil-beards, others peares and
plums ;
Another with a milk-white heyfar comes ;
As lately Agon's man (Damcetas) did ;
But neither he nor all the Nymphs beside,
Can win my Ganymede with them t' abide."
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Friendship
SONNET XIX.
c A H no ; nor I my selfe : tho' my pure love
-Z~jL (Sweete Ganymede) to thee hath still been
pure,
And ev'n till my last gaspe shall aie endure,
Could ever thy obdurate beuty move :
Then cease, oh goddesse sonne (for sure thou art
A Goddesse sonne that can resist desire),
Cease thy hard heart, and entertain love's fire
Within thy sacred breast : by Nature's art.
And as I love thee more than any Creature
(Love thee, because thy beautie is divine,
Love thee, because my selfe, my soule, is thine :
Wholie devoted to thy lovely feature),
Even so of all the vowels, I and U
Are dearest unto me, as doth ensue."
'RANCIS BACON'S essay Of friend-
ship is known to everybody. Not-
withstanding the somewhat cold and
pragmatic style and genius of the
author, the subject seems to inspire him with a
certain enthusiasm ; and some good things are said.
Renaissance & Modern Times
'T)UT we may go farther and affirm most truly
J3 that it is a mere and miserable solitude to want
true friends, without which the world is but a
wilderness ; and even in this scene also of solitude,
whosoever in the frame of his nature and affec-
tions is unfit for friendship, he taketh it of the
beast, and not from humanity. A principal fruit of
friendship is the ease and discharge of the fulness
of the heart, which passions of all kinds do cause
and induce. We know diseases of stoppings and
suffocations are the most dangerous in the body ;
and it is not much otherwise in the mind : you may
take sarza to open the liver, steel to open the
spleen, flower of sulphur for the lungs, castoreum
for the brain ; but no receipt openeth the heart
but a true friend, to whom you may impart griefs,
joys, fears, hopes, suspicions, counsels, and what-
soever lieth upon the heart to oppress it, in a kind
of civil shrift or confession. . . .
"Certainly if a man would give it a hard phrase,
those that want friends to open themselves unto,
are cannibals of their own hearts ; but one thing is
most admirable (wherewith I will conclude this
first fruit of friendship) which is, that this com-
municating of a man's self to his friend worketh
two contrary effects, for it redoubleth joys, and
cutteth griefs in halfs ; for there is no man that im-
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Friendship
parteth his joys to his friend, but he joyeth the
more, and no man that imparteth his griefs to his
friend, but he grieveth the less." Essay 27, Of
friendship.
\
[AKESPEARE'S sonnets have been
much discussed, and surprise and even
doubt have been expressed as to their
having been addressed (the first 126
of them) to a man friend ; but no one who reads
them with open mind can well doubt this con-
clusion ; nor be surprised at it, who knows anything
of Elizabethan life and literature. "Were it not for
the fact," says F. T. Furnivall, "that many critics
really deserving the name of Shakespeare students,
and not Shakespeare fools, have held the Sonnets to
be merely dramatic, I could not have conceived that
poems so intensely and evidently autobiographic
and self-revealing, poems so one with the spirit and
inner meaning of Shakespeare's growth and life,
could ever have been conceived to be other than
what they are — the records of his own loves and
fears."
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SONNET XVIII.
HALL I compare thee to a summer's day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate :
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer's lease hath all too short a date.
Some time too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And often is his gold complexion dimmed;
And every fair from fair sometime declines,
By chance, or nature's changing course, un-
trimmed ;
But thy eternal summer shall not fade,
Nor lose possession of that fair thou owest ;
Nor shall death brag thou wander'st in his shade,
When in eternal lines to time thou growest.
So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see,
So long lives this, and this gives life to thee."
SONNET XX.
" A WOMAN'S &ce> with Nature's own hand
JL\. painted,
Hast thou, the master-mistress of my passion ;
A woman's gentle heart, but not acquainted
With shifting change, as is false women's fashion ;
An eye more bright than theirs, less false in rolling,
Gilding the object whereupon it gazeth;
A man in hue, all hues in his controlling,
Which steals men's eyes, and women's souls ama-
zeth; 139
Friendship
And for a woman wert thou first created ;
Till Nature, as she wrought thee, fell a-doting,
And by addition me of thee defeated,
By adding one thing to my purpose nothing.
But since she pricked thee out for women's
pleasure,
Mine be thy love, and thy love's use their
treasure."
SONNET CIV.
lr I ^O me, fair friend, you never can be old,
A For as you were when first your eye I ey'd,
Such seems your beauty still. Three winters cold
Have from the forest shook three summers' pride;
Three beauteous springs to yellow autumn turned
In process of the seasons I have seen ;
Three April perfumes in three hot Junes burned,
Since first I saw you fresh, which yet are green.
Ah ! yet doth beauty, like a dial hand,
Steal from his figure, and no pace perceived;
So your sweet hue, which methinks still doth
stand,
Hath motion, and mine eye may be deceived;
For fear of which, hear this, thou age unbred,
Ere you were born was beauty's summer dead."
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SONNET CVIII.
*T T T'HAT'S in the brain that ink may character,
VV Which hath not figur'd to thee my true
spirit ?
What's new to speak, what new to register,
That may express my love, or thy dear merit ?
Nothing, sweet boy ; but yet, like prayers divine,
I must each day say o'er the very same,
Counting no old thing old, thou mine, I thine,
Even as when first I hallow'd thy fair name.
So that eternal love, in love's fresh case,
Weighs not the dust and injury of age;
Nor gives to necessary wrinkles place,
But makes antiquity for aye his page ;
Finding the first conceit of love there bred,
Where time and outward form would show it
dead."
[AT Shakespeare, when the drama
needed it, could fully and warmly
inter into the devotion which one
man may feel for another, as well as
into the tragedy which such devotion may entail, is
shown in his Merchant of Venice by the figure of
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Friendship
Antonio, over whom from the first line of the play
("In sooth I know not why I am so sad") there
hangs a shadow of destiny. The following lines are
from Act iv. sc. i : —
Antonio: "/COMMEND me to your honor-
\*Ji able wife;
Tell her the process of Antonio's end ;
Say how I loved you, speak me fair in death ;
And when the tale is told, bid her be judge,
Whether Bassanio had not once a love.
Repent not you that you shall lose your friend,
And he repents not that he pays your debt ;
For, if the Jew do cut but deep enough,
I'll pay it instantly with all my heart.
Bassanio: Antonio, I am married to a wife,
Who is as dear to me as life itself;
But life itself, my wife, and all the world,
Are not with me esteem'd above thy life :
I would lose all, ay, sacrifice them all,
Here to this devil, to deliver you."
We may also, in this connection, quote his Henry
the Fifth (act iv. scene 6) for the deaths of the Duke
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of York and the Earl of Suffolk at the battle of
Agincourt. Exeter, addressing Henry, says : —
UFFOLK first died; and York, all haggled
over,
Comes to him, where in gore he lay insteep'd,
And takes him by the beard, kisses the gashes,
That bloodily did yawn upon his face;
He cries aloud, — * Tarry, dear cousin Suffolk!
My soul shall thine keep company to heaven :
Tarry, sweet soul, for mine; then fly abreast,
As in this glorious and well-foughten field
We kept together in our chivalry ! '
Upon these words I came and cheered him up :
He smiled me in the face, raught me his hand,
And, with a feeble gripe, says, 'Dear my Lord,
Commend my service to my sovereign.*
So did he turn, and over Suffolk's neck
He threw his wounded arm, and kissed his lips;
And so, espoused to death, with blood he seal'd
A testament of noble-ending love."
Shakespeare, with his generous many-sided nature
was, as the Sonnets seem t6 show, and as we should
expect, capable of friendship, passionate friendship,
towards both men and women. Perhaps this marks
H3
Friendship
the highest reach of temperament. That there are
cases in which devotion to a man-friend altogether
replaces the love of the opposite sex is curiously
shown by the following extract from Sir Thomas
Browne : —
SIR " T NEVER yet cast a true affection on a woman ;
THOMAS A but I have loved my friend as I do virtue, my
BROWNE soul, my God I love my friend before myself,
and yet methinks I do not love him enough : some
few months hence my multiplied affection will
make me believe I have not loved him at all. When
I am from him, I am dead till I be with him ; when
I am with him, I am not satisfied, but would be still
nearer him. . . . This noble affection falls not on
yulgar and common constitutions, but on such
as are marked for virtue : he that can love his
friend with this noble ardour, will in a competent
degree affect all." Sir Thomas Browne, Religio
Medici y 1642.
[LLI AM PENN (b. 1 644) the foun-
der of Pennsylvania, and of Phila-
delphia,"The city of brotherly love"
was a great believer in friendship.
He says in his Fruits of Solitude : —
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" A TRUE friend unbosoms freely, advises WILLIAM
*L\. justly, assists readily, adventures boldly, PENN
takes all patiently, defends courageously, and con-
tinues a friend unchangeably. ... In short, choose
a friend as thou dost a wife, till death separate you.
. . . Death cannot kill what never dies. Nor can
spirits ever be divided that love and live in the
same Divine Principle; the Root and Record of
their friendship This is the comfort of friends,
that though they may be said to die, yet their
friendship and society are, in the best sense, ever
present, because immortal."
T may be worth while here to insert
two passages from Macaulay's His-
tory of England. The first deals with
the remarkable intimacy between the
Young Prince William of Orange and "a gentle-
man of his household" named Bentinck. William's
escape from a malignant attack of small-pox
"was attributed partly to his own singular equani- WILLIAM
mity, and partly to the intrepid and indefatigable QF
friendship of Bentinck. From the hands of Ben- ORANGE
tinck alone William took food and medicine — by
Bentinck alone William was lifted from his bed
and laid down in it. 'Whether Bentinck slept or
a SHEET ELEVEN
Friendship
not while I was ill,' said William to Temple with
great tenderness, CI know not. But this I know,
that through sixteen days and nights, I never once
called for anything but that Bentinck was instantly
at my side.' Before the faithful servant had en-
tirely performed his task, he had himself caught
the contagion." (But he recovered.) History of
England, ch. vii.
The second passage describes the devotion of the
Princess Anne (daughter of James II. and after-
wards Queen Anne) to Lady Churchill — a devotion
which had considerable influence on the political
situation.
PRINCESS" TT is a common observation that differences of
ANNE A taste, understanding, and disposition are no
AND impediments to friendship, and that the closest in-
LADY timacies often exist between minds, each of which
CHUR- supplies what is wanting in the other. Lady
CHILL Churchill was loved and even worshipped by
Anne. The princess could not live apart from the
object of her romantic fondness. She married, and
was a faithful and even an affectionate wife ; but
Prince George, a dull man, whose chief pleasures
were derived from his dinner and his bottle, ac-
quired over her no influence comparable to that
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exercised by her female friend, and soon gave him-
self up with stupid patience to the dominion of
that vehement and commanding spirit by which
his wife was governed." History of England^ ch. vii.
HAT the tradition of Greek thought
was not quite obliterated in England
by the Puritan movement is shown
by the writings of Archbishop Potter,
who speaks with approval of friendship as followed
among the Greeks, "not only in private, but by the ARCH-
public allowance and encouragement of their laws; £ * ,£v~c
for they thought there could be no means more
effectual to excite their youth to noble undertakings,
nor any greater security to their commonwealths,
than this generous passion." He then quotes Ath-
enaeus, saying that "free commonwealths and all
those states that consulted the advancement of
their own honour, seem to have been unanimous in
establishing laws to encourage and reward it." John
Pottery Antiquities of 'Greece^ 1698.
The 1 8th century however in England, with
its leaning towards formalism, was perhaps not
H7
Friendship
favorable to the understanding of the Greek
spirit. At any rate there is not much to show in that
direction. In Germany the classical tradition in art
was revived by Raphael Mengs, while Winckel-
mann, the art critic, showed himself one of the best
interpreters of the Hellenic world that has ever
lived. His letters too, to his personal friends,
breathe a spirit of the tenderest and most passionate
devotion : "Friendship," he says, "without love is
mere acquaintanceship." Winckelmann met, in
1762, in Rome, a young nobleman, Reinhold von
Berg, to whom he became deeply attached : —
WINCKEL-" A LMOST at first sight there sprang up, on
MANN'S -^J^ Winckelmann's side, an attachment as ro-
LETTERS mantic, emotional and passionate as love. In a
letter to his friend he said,* From the first moment
an indescribable attraction towards you, excited by
something more than form and feature, caused me
to catch an echo of that harmony which passes
human understanding and which is the music of
the everlasting concord of things. ... I was aware
of the deep consent of our spirits, the instant I saw
you.' And in a later letter : * No name by which
I might call you would be sweet enough or suffi-
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cicnt for my love ; all that I could say would be far
too feeble to give utterance to my heart and soul.
Truly friendship came from heaven and was not
created by mere human impulses. . . . My one
friend, I love you more than any living thing, and
time nor chance nor age can ever lessen this love."
Ludwig Frey, Der Eros und die Kunsty Leipzig,
p. 211.
|OETHE, that universal genius, has
some excellent thoughts on this sub-
ject; speaking of Winckelmann he
says : —
"HT^HE affinities of human beings in Antiquity GOETHE
J. give evidence of an important distinction be- QN
tween ancient and modern times. The relation to WINCKEL-
women, which among us has become so tender and MANN
full of meaning, hardly aspired in those days be-
yond the limits of vulgar necessity. The relation
of parents to their children seems in some respects
to have been tenderer. More to them than all other
feelings was the friendship between persons of the
male sex (though female friends too, like Chloris
and Thyia, were inseparable, even in Hades). In
these cases of union between two youths, the
passionate fulfilment of loving duties, the joys of
149
Friendship
inseparableness, the devotion of one for the other,
the unavoided companionship in death, fill us with
astonishment ; indeed one reels oneself ashamed
when poets, historians, philosophers and orators
overwhelm us with legends, anecdotes, sentiments
and ideas, containing such meaning and feeling.
Winckelmann felt himself born for a friendship of
this kind — not only as capable of it, but in the
highest degree in need of it; he became conscious
of his true self only under the form of friendship."
Goethe on Winckelmann.
Some of Goethe's poems further illustrate this
subject. In the Saki Nameh of his West-Oestlichen
Divan he has followed the style of a certain class of
Persian love-songs. The following poem is from
a Cupbearer to his Master: —
POEM "TN the market-place appearing
BY ••• None thy Poet-fame dispute ;
GOETHE J to° Slac% hear % singing>
I too hearken when thou'rt mute.
Yet I love thee, when thou printest
Kisses not to be forgot,
Best of all, for words may perish,
But a kiss lives on in thought.
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Rhymes on rhymes fair meaning carry,
Thoughts to think bring deeper joy;
Sing to other folk, but tarry
Silent with thy serving-boy."
loUNT AUGUST VON PLATEN
(born at Ansbach in Bavaria, 1796)
was in respect of style one of the most
finished and perfect of German poets.
His nature (which was refined and self-controlled)
led him from the first to form the most romantic
attachments with men. He freely and openly ex-
pressed his feelings in his verses ; of which a great
number are practically love-poems addressed to his
friends. They include a series of twenty-six sonnets
to one of his friends, Karl Theodor German. Of
these Raffalovich says (Uranismey Lyons, 1896,
P-350:—
"HT^HESE sonnets to Karl Theodor German are AUGUST
JL among the most beautiful in German litera- VON
ture. Platen in the sonnet surpasses all the German PLATEN
poets, including even Goethe. In them perfection
of form, and poignancy or wealth of emotion are
Friendship
illustrated to perfection. The sentiment is similar
to that of the sonnets of Shakespeare (with their
personal note), and the form that of the Italian or
French sonnet."
Platen, however, was unfortunate in his affairs of
the heart, and there is a refrain of suffering in his
poems which conies out characteristically in the
following sonnet : —
PLATEN'S "QINCE pain is life and life is only pain,
SONNETS O Why he can feel what I have felt before,
Who seeing joy sees it again no more
The instant he attempts his joy to gain ;
Who, caught as in a labyrinth unaware,
The outlet from it never more can find;
Whom love seems only for this end to bind — •
In order to hand over to Despair;
Who prays each dizzy lightning-flash to end him,
Each star to reel his thread of life away
With all the torments which his heart are rending ;
And envies even the dead their pillow of clay,
Where Love no more their foolish brains can steal.
He who knows this, knows me, and what I feel."
One of Platen's sonnets deals with an incident,
referred to in an earlier page, namely, the death of
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the poet Pindar in the theatre, in the arms of his
young friend Theoxenos : —
,,/^~\H! when I die, would I might fade away QN THE
v>/ Like the pale stars, swiftly and silently, DEATH
Would that death's messenger might come to QF
me.> PINDAR
As once it came to Pindar — so they say.
Not that I would in Life, or in my Verse,
With him, the great Incomparable, compare;
Only his Death, my friend, I ask to share :
But let me now the gracious tale rehearse.
Long at the play, hearing sweet Harmony,
He sat ; and wearied out at last, had lain
His cheek upon his dear one's comely knee ;
Then when it died away — the choral strain —
He who thus cushioned him said : Wake and come !
But to the Gods above he had gone home."
i HE correspondence of Richard Wag-
ner discloses the existence of a very
warm friendship between him and
Ludwig II., the young king of Ba-
varia. Ludwig as a young man appears to have been
a very charming personality, good looking, en-
gaging and sympathetic ; everyone was fond of him.
H3
Friendship
Yet his tastes led him away from "society," into re-
tirement, and the companionship of Nature and
a few chosen friends — often of humble birth. Al-
ready at the age of fifteen he had heard Lohengrin,
and silently vowed to know the composer. One of
his first acts when he came to the throne was to send
for Wagner ; and from the moment of their meeting
a personal intimacy sprang up between them, which
in due course led to the establishment of the theatre
at Bayreuth, and to the liberation of Wagner's
genius to the world. Though the young king at
a later time lost his reason — probably owing to his
over-sensitive emotional nature — this does not de-
tract from the service that he rendered to Music by
his generous attachment. How Wagner viewed the
matter may be gathered from Wagner's letters.
WAGNER "TTE, the king, loves me, and with the deep
AND J_ JL feeling and glow of a first love ; he perceives
LUDWIG and knows everything about me, and understands
II. me as my own soul. He wants me to stay with him
always. ... I am to be free and my own master, not
his music-conductor — only my very self and his
friend." Letters to Mme. Eliza Wille^ 4th May, 1 8 64.
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1 T T is true that I have my young king who gen-
J. uinely adores me. You cannot form an idea of
our relations. I recall one of the dreams of my
youth. I once dreamed that Shakespeare was alive :
that I really saw and spoke to him : I can never for-
get the impression that dream made on me. Then
I would have wished to see Beethoven, though he
was already dead. Something of the same kind
must pass in the mind of this lovable man when
with me. He says he can hardly believe that he
really possesses me. None can read without as-
tonishment, without enchantment, the letters he
writes to me." Ibidy 9th Sept., 1864.
* T HOPE now for a long period to gain strength
J. again by quiet work. This is made possible for
me by the love of an unimaginably beautiful and
thoughtful being : it seems that it had to be even
so greatly gifted a man and one so destined for
me, as this young King of Bavaria. What he is to
me no one can imagine. My guardian ! In his love
I completely rest and fortify myself towards the
completion of my task." Letter to his brother-in-law »,
loth Sept., 1865.
'55
Friendship
these letters we see chiefly of course
the passionate sentiments of which
Ludwig was capable ; but that Wag-
ner fully understood the feeling and
appreciated it may be gathered from various pass-
ages in his published writings — such as the follow-
ing, in which he seeks to show how the devotion of
comradeship became the chief formative influence
of the Spartan State: —
WAGNER *trTPHIS beauteous naked man is the kernel of all
JL Spartanhood ; from genuine delight in the
beauty of the most perfect human body — that of
the male — arose that spirit of comradeship which
pervades and shapes the whole economy of the
Spartan State. This love of man to man, in its
primitive purity, proclaims itself as the noblest and
least selfish utterance of man's sense of beauty, for
it teaches man to sink and merge his entire self in
the object of his affection;" and again: — "The
higher element of that love of man to man consisted
even in this : that it excluded the motive of egoistic
physicalism. Nevertheless it not only included a
purely spiritual bond of friendship, but this spiri-
tual friendship was the blossom and the crown of
the physical friendship. The latter sprang directly
156
ON
GREEK
COMRADE-
SHIP
Renaissance & Modern Times
from delight in the beauty, aye in the material
bodily beauty of the beloved comrade ; yet this de-
light was no egoistic yearning, but a thorough
stepping out of self into unreserved sympathy
with the comrade's joy in himself; involuntarily
betrayed by his life-glad beauty-prompted bearing.
This love, which had its basis in the noblest plea-
sures of both eye and soul — not like our modern
postal correspondence of sober friendship, half bus-
iness-like, half sentimental — was the Spartan's on-
ly tutoress of youth, the never-ageing instructress
alike of boy and man, the ordainer of common
feasts and valiant enterprises ; nay the inspiring
helpmeet on the battlefield. For this it was that
knit the fellowship of love into battalions of war,
and fore-wrote the tactics of death-daring, in res-
cue of the imperilled or vengeance for the slaugh-
tered comrade, by the infrangible law of the soul's
most natural necessity." The Art-work of the Future,
trans, by W. A. Ellis.
may close this record of celebrated
Germans with the name of K. H.
Ulrichs, a Hanoverian by birth who
^occupied for a long time an official
position in the revenue department at Vienna, and
who became well known about 1866 through his
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Friendship
writings on the subject of friendship. He gives, in
his pamphlet Memnony an account of the "story of
his heart" in early years. In an apparently quite
natural way, and independently of outer influences,
his thoughts had from the very first been of friends
of his own sex. At the age of 14, the picture of a
Greek hero or god, a statue, seen in a book, woke in
him the tenderest longings.
K. H. "fTHHIS picture (he says), put away from me, as
ULRICHS A it was, a hundred times, came again a hun-
dred times before the eyes of my soul. But of
course for the origin of my special temperament it
is in no way responsible. It only woke up what was
already slumbering there — a thing which might
have been done equally well by something else."
From that time forward the boy worshipped with
a kind of romantic devotion elder friends, young
men in the prime of early manhood ; and later still
his writings threw a flood of light on the "urning"
temperament — as he called it — of which he was
himself so marked an example.
Some of Ulrich's verses are scattered among his
prose writings : —
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To his friend Eberhard.
« A ND so farewell! perchance on Earth ULRICHS'
JHL God's finger — as 'twixt thee and me — VERSES
Will never make that wonder clear
Why thus It drew me unto thee.*'
Memnoit) Leipzig, 1898, p. 104.
And this: —
" T T was the day of our first meeting —
JL That happy day, in Davern's grove—
I felt the Spring wind's tender greeting,
And April touched my heart to love.
Thy hand in mine lay kindly mated ;
Thy gaze held mine quite fascinated —
So gracious wast, and fair !
Thy glance my life-thread almost severed ;
My heart for joy and gladness quivered,
Nigh more than it could bear.
There in the grove at evening's hour
The breeze thro* budding twigs hath ranged,
And lips have learned to meet each other,
And kisses mute exchanged."
Memnon, p. 23.
'59
Friendship
3O return to England. With the begin-
ning of the 1 9th century we find two
great poets, Byron and Shelley, both
interested in and even writing in a
romantic strain on the subject in question.
Byron's attachment, when at Cambridge, to Eddle-
ston the chorister, a youth two years younger than
himself, is well known. In a youthful letter to Miss
Pigot he, Byron, speaks of it in enthusiastic terms :
"Trin. Coll., Camb., July 5th, 1807.
BYRON'S" T REJOICE to hear you are interested in my pro-
LETTERS J. te"g6 ; he has been my almost constant associate
since October, 1 805, when I entered Trinity Col-
lege. His voice first attracted my attention, his
countenance fixed it, and his manners attached me to
him for ever. He departs for a mercantile house in
town in October, and we shall probably not meet
till the expiration of my minority, when I shall
leave to his decision either entering as a partner
through my interest or residing with me alto-
gether. Of course he would in his present frame of
mind prefer the latter, but he may alter his opinion
previous to that period ; however he shall have his
choice. I certainly love him more than any human
being, and neither time nor distance have had the
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least effect on my (in general) changeable dispo-
sition. In short we shall put Lady E. Butler and
Miss Ponsonby to the blush, Pylades and Orestes
out of countenance, and want nothing but a catas-
trophe like Nisus and Euryalus to give Jonathan
and David the 'go by.' He certainly is more at-
tached to me than even I am in return. During the
whole of my residence at Cambridge we met every
day, summer and winter, without passing one tire-
some moment, and separated each time with in-
creasing reluctance."
Eddleston gave Byron a cornelian (brooch-pin)
which Byron prized much, and is said to have kept
all his life. He probably refers to it, and to the in-
equality of condition between him and Eddleston,
in the following stanza from his poem, The Adieuy
written about this time: —
" A ^^ thou, my friend, whose gentle love
JL\. Yet thrills my bosom's chords, ADIEU
How much thy friendship was above
Description's power or words !
Still near my breast thy gift I wear
Which sparkled once with Feeling's tear,
Of Love, the pure, the sacred gem ;
Our souls were equal, and our lot
In that dear moment quite forgot ;
Let pride alone condemn."
161
a SHEET TWELVB
Friendship
[E Lady Eleanor Butler and Miss
Sarah Ponsonby mentioned in the
above letter were at that time living
at Llangollen, in Wales, and were
known as the "Ladies of Llangollen," their roman-
tic attachment to each other having already become
proverbial. When Miss Ponsonby was seventeen,
and Lady E. Butler some twenty years older, they
had run away from their respective and respectable
homes in Ireland, and taking a cottage at Llangollen
lived there, inseparable companions, for the rest
of their lives. Letters and diaries of contemporary
celebrities mention their romantic devotion. (The
Duke of Wellington was among their visitors.)
Lady Eleanor died in 1829, at the age of ninety;
and Miss Ponsonby only survived her "beloved
one" (as she always called her) by two years.
S to the allusion to Nisus and Eu-
ryalus, Byron's paraphrase of the
episode (from the nth book of
Virgil's -^Eneid) serves to show his
interest in it : —
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Renaissance & Modern Times
"XJISUS, the guardian of the portal, stood, BYRON'S
IN Eager to gild his arms with hostile blood ; NISUS ANE
Well-skilled in fight the quivering lance to wield, EURYA-
Or pour his arrows thro* the embattled field : LUS
From Ida torn, he left his Sylvan cave,
And sought a foreign home, a distant grave.
To watch the movements of the Daunian host,
With him Euryalus sustains the post;
No lovelier mien adorn'd the ranks of Troy,
And beardless bloom yet graced the gallant boy ;
Tho' few the seasons of his youthful life,
As yet a novice in the martial strife,
'Twas his, with beauty, valour's gifts to share —
A soul heroic, as his form was fair.
These burn with one pure flame of generous
love;
In peace, in war, united still they move;
Friendship and glory form their joint reward ;
And now combined they hold their nightly guard."
[The two then carry out a daring raid on the
enemy, in which Euryalus is slain. Nisus, coming to
his rescue is — after performing prodigies of valor —
slain too.]
"Thus Nisus all his fond affection proved —
Dying, revenged the fate of him he loved ;
T. MOORE
ON
BYRON
Friendship
Then on his bosom sought his wonted place,
And death was heavenly in his friend's embrace !
Celestial pair ! if aught my verse can claim,
Wafted on Time's broad pinion, yours is fame !
Ages on ages shall your fate admire,
No future day shall see your names expire,
While stands the Capitol, immortal dome!
And vanquished millions hail their empress,
Rome!"
Byron's friendships, in fact, with young men were
so marked that Moore in his Life and Letters of Lord
Byron seems to have felt it necessary to mention and,
to some extent, to explain them : —
"TOURING his stay in Greece (in 1 8 10) we find
-L-/ him forming one of those extraordinary
friendships — if attachment to persons so inferior
to himself can be called by that name — of which
I have already mentioned two or three instances
in his younger days, and in which the pride of
being a protector and the pleasure of exciting gra-
titude seem to have contributed to his mind the
chief, pervading charm. The person whom he now
adopted in this manner, and from similar feelings
to those which had inspired his early attachments
to the cottage boy near Newstead and the young
chorister at Cambridge, was a Greek youth, named
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Nicolo Giraud, the son, I believe, of a widow lady
in whose house the artist Lusieri lodged. In this
young man he seems to have taken the most lively
and even brotherly interest."
[ELLEY, in his fragmentary Essay
Friendship — stated by his friend
)Hogg to have been written " not long
^before his death" — says: —
<T REMEMBER forming an attachment of this SHELLEY
A kind at school. I cannot recall to my memory ON
the precise epoch at which this took place ; but FR1END-
I imagine it must have been at the age of eleven or SHIP
twelve. The object of these sentiments was a boy
about my own age, of a character eminently gener-
ous, brave and gentle, and the elements of human
feeling seemed to have been, from his birth, geni-
ally compounded within him. There was a delicacy
and a simplicity in his manners, inexpressibly attrac-
tive. It has never been my fortune to meet with
him since my schoolboy days ; but either I con-
found my present recollections with the delusions
of past feelings, or he is now a source of honour
and utility to everyone around him. The tones of
his voice were so soft and winning, that every
word pierced into my heart ; and their pathos was
so deep that in listening to him the tears have in-
Friendship
voluntarily gushed from my eyes. Such was the
being for whom I first experienced the sacred
sentiments of friendship."
It may be noted that Hogg takes the reference as
to himself!
'H this passage we may compare
'the following from Leigh Hunt: —
LEIGH 7/B^B^!M"TF l had reaPed no other benefit
HUNT tlJ^mA^jfc^ A from Christ Hospital, the school
ON ^^^^Z-s would be ever dear to me from the
SCHOOL- recollection of the friendships I formed in it, and
LIFE of the first heavenly taste it gave me of that most
spiritual of the affections. ... If ever I tasted a
disembodied transport on earth, it was in those
friendships which I entertained at school, before
I dreamt of any maturer feeling. I shall never for-
get the impression it made on me. I loved my
friend for his gentleness, his candour, his truth,
his good repute, his freedom even from my own
livelier manner, his calm and reasonable kindness.
It was not any particular talent that attracted me
to him, or anything striking whatsoever. I should
say, in one word, it was his goodness. I doubt
whether he ever had a conception of a tithe of the
regard and respect I entertained for him; and
I smile to think of the perplexity (though he never
166
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showed it) which he probably felt sometimes at my
enthusiastic expressions ; for I thought him a kind
of angel. It is no exaggeration to say, that, take
away the unspiritual part of it — the genius and the
knowledge — and there is no height of conceit in-
dulged in by the most romantic character in Shake-
speare, which surpassed what I felt towards the
merits I ascribed to him, and the delight which
I took in his society. With the other boys I played
antics, and rioted in fantastic jests; but in his
society, or whenever I thought of him, I fell into
a kind of Sabbath state of bliss ; and I am sure
I could have died for him.
"I experienced this delightful affection towards
three successive schoolfellows, till two of them had
for some time gone out into the world and for-
gotten me ; but it grew less with each, and in more
than one instance became rivalled by a new set of
emotions, especially in regard to the last, for I fell
in love with his sister — at least, I thought so. But
on the occurrence of her death, not long after,
I was startled at finding myself assume an air of
greater sorrow than I felt, and at being willing to
be relieved by the sight of the first pretty face that
turned towards me My friend, who died him-
self not long after his quitting the University, was
of a German family in the service of the court, very
167
Friendship
refined and musical." Autobiography of Leigh Hunty
Smith and Elder ^ 1870, p. 75.
this subject of boy-friendships and
their intensity Lord Beaconsfield has,
in Coningsbjy a quite romantic pass-
age, which notwithstanding its sen-
timental setting may be worth quoting; because,
after all, it signalises an often-forgotten or uncon-
sidered aspect of school-life : —
LORD " A T school, friendship is a passion. It entrances
BEACONS- •**• the being i it tears ^e soul. All loves of after-
FIELD'S life can never bring its rapture, or its wretched-
"CON- ness; no °liss so absorbing, no pangs of jealousy
INGSBY" or despair so crushing and so keen ! What tender-
ness and what devotion; what illimitable confi-
dence, infinite revelations of inmost thoughts;
what ecstatic present and romantic future ; what
bitter estrangements and what melting reconcilia-
tions ; what scenes of wild recrimination, agitating
explanations, passionate correspondence; what
insane sensitiveness, and what frantic sensibility ;
what earthquakes of the heart and whirlwinds of
the soul are confined in that simple phrase, a
schoolboy's friendship ! "
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Renaissance & Modern Times
)LFRED TENNYSON, in his great
poem In Memoriam, published about
the middle of the 1 9th century, gives
superb expression to his love for his
lost friend, Arthur Hallam. Reserved, dignified, in
sustained meditation and tender sentiment, yet half
revealing here and there a more passionate feeling ;
expressing in simplest words the most difficult and
elusive thoughts (e.g.. Cantos 128 and 129), as well
as the most intimate and sacred moods of the soul ;
it is indeed a great work of art. Naturally, being
such, it was roundly abused by the critics on its first
appearance. The Times solemly rebuked its language
as unfitted for any but amatory tenderness, and be-
cause young Hallam was a barrister spent much wit
upon the poet's "Amaryllis of the Chancery bar."
Tennyson himself, speaking of In Memoriamy men-
tioned (see Memoir by his son, p. 800) "the number
of shameful letters of abuse he had received
about it!"
169
Friendship
CANTO XIII.
TENNY-"nPEARS of the widower, when he sees,
SON'S A A late-lost form that sleep reveals,
"IN ME- And moves his doubtful arms, and feels
MORIAM" Her place is empty, fall like these;
Which weep a loss for ever new,
A void where heart on heart reposed ;
And, where warm hands have prest and closed,
Silence, till I be silent too.
Which weep the comrade of my choice,
An awful thought, a life removed,
The human-hearted man I loved,
A spirit, not a breathing voice.
Come Time, and teach me, many years,
I do not suffer in a dream ;
For now so strange do these things seem,
Mine eyes have leisure for their tears ;
My fancies time to rise on wing,
And glance about the approaching sails,
As tho' they brought but merchant's bales,
And not the burden that they bring."
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CANTO XVIII.
TIS well, 'tis something, we may stand
Where he in English earth is laid,
And from his ashes may be made
The violet of his native land.
'Tis little ; but it looks in truth
As if the quiet bones were blest
Among familiar names to rest
And in the places of his youth.
Come then, pure hands, and bear the head
That sleeps, or wears the mask of sleep,
And come, whatever loves to weep,
And hear the ritual of the dead.
Ah yet, ev'n yet, if this might be,
I, falling on his faithful heart,
Would breathing thro' his lips impart
The life that almost dies in me :
That dies not, but endures with pain,
And slowly forms the firmer mind,
Treasuring the look it cannot find,
The words that are not heard again."
171
Friendship
CANTO LIX.
"IN ME- "TF, in thy second state sublime,
MORIAM" A Thy ransom'd reason change replies
With all the circle of the wise,
The perfect flower of human time ;
And if thou cast thine eyes below,
How dimly character'd and slight,
How dwarf 'd a growth of cold and night,
How blanch'd with darkness must I grow 1
Yet turn thee to the doubtful shore,
Where thy first form was made a man ;
I loved thee, Spirit, and love, nor can
The soul of Shakspeare love thee more."
CANTO CXXVII.
EAR friend, far ofF, my lost desire,
So far, so near, in woe or weal ;
O loved the most when most I feel
There is a lower and a higher ;
Known and unknown, human, divine!
Sweet human hand and lips and eye,
Dear heavenly friend that canst not die,
Mine, mine, for ever, ever, mine !
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Renaissance & Modern Times
Strange friend, past, present and to be ;
Loved deeplier, darklier understood;
Behold I dream a dream of good
And mingle all the world with thee."
CANTO CXXVIII.
<rTHHY voice is on the rolling air;
JL I hear thee where the waters run;
Thou standest in the rising sun,
And in the setting thou art rair.
What art thou then? I cannot guess;
But tho' I seem in star and flower
To feel thee some diffusive power,
I do not therefore love thee less :
My love involves the love before;
My love is vaster passion now;
Tho' mixed with God and Nature thou,
I seem to love thee more and more.
Far off thou art, but ever nigh ;
I have thee still, and I rejoice;
I prosper, circled with thy voice;
I shall not lose thee tho' I die."
173
Friendship
'OLLOWING is a little poem by
Robert Browning entitled May and
Deathy which may well be placed near
the stanzas of In Memoriam : —
BROWN- MT WISH that when you died last May,
ING'S •*• Charles, there had died along with you
"MAY AND Three parts of Spring's delightful things;
DEATH" Ay, and for me the fourth part too.
A foolish thought, and worse, perhaps !
There must be many a pair of friends
Who arm-in-arm deserve the warm
Moon-births and the long evening-ends.
So, for their sake, be May still May !
Let their new time, as mine of old,
Do all it did for me; I bid
Sweet sights and sounds throng manifold.
Only one little sight, one plant
Woods have in May, that starts up green
Save a sole streak which, so to speak,
Is Spring's blood, spilt its leaves between —
That, they might spare; a certain wood
Might miss the plant; their loss were small;
But I — whene'er the leaf grows there —
It's drop comes from my heart, that's all."
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Renaissance & Modern Times
ETWEEN Browning and Whitman
we may insert a few lines from R. W.
Emerson : —
"HpHE only way to have a friend RALPH
JL is to be one. ... In the last WALDO
analysis love is only the reflection of a man's own EMERSON
worthiness from other men. Men have sometimes
exchanged names with their friends, as if they
would signify that in their friend each loved his
own soul.
"The higher the style we demand of friendship,
of course the less easy to establish it with flesh and
blood. . , . Friends, such as we desire, are dreams
and fables. But a sublime hope cheers ever the
faithful heart, that elsewhere, in other regions of
the universal power, souls are now acting, en-
during, and daring, which can love us, and which
we can love." Essay on Friendship.
These also from Henry D. Thoreau : —
word is oftener on the lips of men than HENRY D.
Friendship, and indeed no thought is more THOREAU
familiar to their aspirations. All men are dreaming
of it, and its drama, which is always a tragedy, is
enacted daily. It is the secret of the universe. You
may thread the town, you may wander the coun-
try, and none shall ever speak of it, yet thought is
Friendship
everywhere busy about it, and the idea of what is
possible in this respect affects our behaviour to-
wards all new men and women, and a great many
old ones. Nevertheless I can remember only two
or three essays on this subject in all literature. . . .
To say that a man is your friend, means commonly
no more than this, that he is not your enemy.
Most contemplate only what would be the acci-
dental and trifling advantages of friendship, as
that the friend can assist in time of need, by his
substance, or his influence, or his counsel; but
he who foresees such advantages in this relation
proves himself blind to its real advantage, or in-
deed wholly inexperienced in the relation itself.
. . . What is commonly called Friendship is only
a little more honour among rogues. But some-
times we are said to love another, that is, to
stand in a true relation to him, so that we give the
best to, and receive the best from, him. Between
whom there is hearty truth there is love ; and in
proportion to our truthfulness and confidence in
one another our lives are divine and miraculous,
and answer to our ideal. There are passages of
affection in our intercourse with mortal men and
women, such as no prophecy had taught us to ex-
pect, which transcend our earthly life, and antici-
pate heaven for us." From On the Concord River.
Renaissance & Modern Times
CONCLUDE this collection with
a few quotations from Whitman, for
whom "the love of comrades" per-
haps stands as the most intimate part
of his message to the world — "Here the frailest
leaves of me and yet my strongest lasting." Whit-
man, by his great power, originality and initiative,
as well as by his deep insight and wide vision, is in
many ways the inaugurator of a new era to man-
kind ; and it is especially interesting to find that this
idea of comradeship, and of its establishment as a
social institution, plays so important a part with him.
We have seen that in the Greek age, and more or
less generally in the ancient and pagan world, com-
radeship was an institution ; we have seen that in
Christian and modern times, though existent, it was
socially denied and ignored, and indeed to a great
extent fell under a kind of ban; and now Whitman's
attitude towards it suggests to us that it really is
destined to pass into its third stage, to arise again,
and become a recognised factor of modern life, and
0 SHEET THIRTEEN
Friendship
even in a more extended and perfect form than
at first."
WALT"TT is to the development, identification, and
WHITMAN A general prevalence of that fervid comradeship
(the adhesive love, at least rivaling the amative
love hitherto possessing imaginative literature, if
not going beyond it), that I look for the counter-
balance and offset of our materialistic and vulgar
American Democracy, and for the spiritualisation
thereof. Many will say it is a dream, and will not
follow my inferences ; but I confidently expect a
time when there will be seen, running like a half-
hid warp through all the myriad audible and vis-
ible worldly interests of America, threads of manly
friendship, fond and loving, pure and sweet, strong
and lifelong, carried to degrees hitherto unknown
— not only giving tone to individual character, and
making it unprecedently emotional, muscular, he-
roic, and refined, but having deepest relations to
general politics. I say Democracy infers such
loving comradeship, as its most inevitable twin or
«As Whitman in this connection (like Tennyson in connection with
In Memoriam) is sure to be accused of morbidity, it may be worth while
to insert the following note from In re Walt Whitman, p. 115, "Dr.
Drink ard in 1870, when Whitman broke down from rupture of a small
blood-vessel in the brain, wrote to a Philadelphia doctor detailing
Whitman's case, and stating that he was a man ' with the most natural
habits, bases, and organisation he had ever seen.'"
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Renaissance &* Modern Times
counterpart, without which it will be incomplete,
in vain, and incapable of perpetuating itself."
Democratic Vistas^ note.
The three following poems are taken from Leaves
of Grass: —
ECORDERS ages hence, "LEAVES
AV Come, I will take you down underneath this OF
impassive exterior, I will tell you what to GRASS"
say of me,
Publish my name and hang up my picture as that
of the tenderest lover,
The friend the lover's portrait, of whom his friend
his lover was fondest,
Who was not proud of his songs, but of the mea-
sureless ocean of love within him, and freely
pour'd it forth,
Who often walk'd lonesome walks thinking of his
dear friends, his lovers,
Who pensive away from one he lov'd often lay
sleepless and dissatisfied at night,
Who knew too well the sick, sick dread lest the one
he lov'd might secretly be indifferent to him,
Whose happiest days were far away through fields,
in woods, on hills, he and another wandering
hand in hand, they twain apart from other men,
179
Friendship
Who oft as he saunter'd the streets curv'd with his
arm the shoulder of his friend, while the arm of
his friend rested upon him also."
Leaves of Grass, 1891-2 edn., p. 102.
CT T 7*HEN I heard at the close of the day how
V V my name had been receiv'd with plaudits
in the capitol, still it was not a happy night for
me that follow'd,
And else when I carous'd, or when my plans were
accomplish'd, still I was not happy,
But the day when I rose at dawn from the bed of
perfect health, refresh'd, singing, inhaling the
ripe breath of autumn,
When I saw the full moon in the west grow pale
and disappear in the morning light,
When I wander'd alone over the beach, and un-
dressing bathed, laughing with the cool waters,
and saw the sun rise,
And when I thought how my dear friend my lover
was on his way coming, O then I was happy,
O then each breath tasted sweeter, and all that day
my food nourish'd me more, and the beautiful
day pass'd well,
And the next came with equal joy, and with the
next at evening came my friend,
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Renaissance & Modern Times
And that night while all was still I heard the waters
roll slowly continuously up the shores,
I heard the hissing rustle of the liquid and sands as
directed to me whispering to congratulate me,
For the one I love most lay sleeping by me under
the same cover in the cool night,
In the stillness in the autumn moonbeams his face
was inclined toward me,
And his arm lay lightly around my breast — and
that night I was happy."
p. 103.
* T HEAR it was charged against me that I sought
A to destroy institutions,
But really I am neither for nor against institutions,
(What indeed have I in common with them? or
what with the destruction of them ?)
Only I will establish in the Mannahatta and in
every city of these States inland and seaboard,
And in the fields and woods, and above every keel
little or large that dents the water,
Without edifices or rules or trustees or any argu-
ment,
The institution of the dear love of comrades."
Ibid, p. 107.
181
Index
INDEX
Achilles and Patroclus, 45, 68 et seq., 74, 85
jBschyhtS) on Achilles, 72, 73
African Customs, 4, 5, 6, 14
Agathon, epigram to, by Plato, 79
Agesilaus and Lysander, 1 7
Albania, Customs, 20, 21
Amis and Amile, story of, 106
Anacreon, epigram, 775/0 Bathyllus, 77
^##£, Princess, and Lady Churchill, 146
Anselms letters to brother Monks, 104; /o Lanfranc,
104; /o Gondulph, 105
Apollo and Hyacinth, 8 8
Arabia, customs, 12, 109, 119
Archidamus and Cleonymus, 17
Aristophanes, speech of, $i et seq.
Aster, epigrams to, by Plato, 78
Athen<eus quoted, 25, 28, 74, 147
Augustine, Saint, his friend, 99 */ ^.
Bacon, Francis, quoted, 137
Bagdad Dervish, story of, 1 1 6 ; another story, 117
Balonda, ceremonies among, 4
Banyai, customs among the, 14
Barnfield, Richard, " 7%<? Affectionate Shepheard," 133;
Sonnets, 134 */ 5^.
184
Index
Baylis, J. W., quoted, 36, 90
Beaconsfield, Lord, on boy-friendships, 168
Bengali coolies, 7
Benecke, E. F. M., quoted, 68, 97
Bernard, Saint, 103
Bion, quoted, 86
Blood, mutual tasting of, 5
Browne, Sir Thomas, " Religio Medici" quoted, 144
Browning, Robert, poem by, 1 74
Bruno, Giordano, quoted, 130
Buckingham, J. S., Travels in Assyria, &c., 1 1 5 */ seq.
Butler, Lady E., and Miss Ponsonby, 161, 162
Byron, letter to Miss Pigot, 1 60 ; friendship with
Eddleston, 1 6 1 ; paraphrase of story ofNisus and
Euryalus, 163; comments by T. Moore, 1 64
Cattias and Autolycus, 59
Catullus, 89; to Quintius, 92; to Juventius, 92; to
Licinius, 93
Ch<eron<ea, battle of, 22, 23, 68
Chariton and Melanippus, 15; story of, 29
Chivalry, customs of, in Arabia and Africa, 1 1, 12, 14
Chivalry, medieval, compared with Greek friendship,
i5>45>47
Christian influences, 97 */ jf^.
Christian and Greek Ideals compared, 98
Cleomachus, story of, 27
Index
Comrade-attachment^ an institution in the early world,
i et seq., 41, 46, 177, &V.; an essential part of
Greek civilisation, 41, 42 et seq.; romance of, 42,
46, 47, 52, 53, 56-60, 68 et seq.; heroic quality,
n, 12, 13, 16,21-25,28,31-37,50,51,^.;
Educational value, 16-21, 46, 49, 74; relation
to Chivalry, 1 1-16, 45, 47, 97 ; relation to Poli-
tics, 42, 46, 49, 50, 99, 147; relation to Phil-
osophy, 30, 47-63 ; relation to the Divine Love,
48, 54-59> 63, 130, 132, 133, 145
Cratinus and Aristodemus, 1 5
Crete, customs, 17
Damon and Pythias, 8 ; story of, 36
Dante quoted, 69
David and Jonathan, 6, 7, 15, 108
Democratic Vistas quoted, 178
Dickinson, G. L., quoted, 45, 75
Diodes, tomb honoured by lovers, 20, 82
Diodes and Philolaus, 1 5, 1 9
Diomedes and Sthenelus, 45
Diotima the prophetess, 53, 129
Dorian customs, 1 6 et seq.
Eastern countries and poets, 109
Eighteenth Century, influence of, 147
Emerson, R. W., essay on friendship, 175
Epaminondas, 28, 29
186
Index
Epigrams, Greek Anthology », 80; of 'Plato , 78, 79
Epitaph^ Greek Anthology ', 80
Exchange of gifts, 5, 6, 7, 1 8, 36; </ »**»«, 5, 6;
of flowers, 7
Flower Friends, 7
Fraunce, Abraham, translation of Virgil, 9 1
Fr^y, Ludwig, quoted, 45, 149
Ganymede, 57, 82
Germans, primitive, II, 13
Germany, modern, 147 */ J^.
Goethe, on Winckelmann and Greek friendship, 149;
/>0«» ^y, 150
friendship compared with medieval chivalry,
Hafiz, quoted, 113
Hallam, Arthur, and Tennyson, 169 <?/ J^^.
Harmodius and Aristogeiton, 15, 28 ; j/ory o/^ 32
Hazlitt, Wm., Life of Montaigne quoted, 124
Hercules and loldus, 23, 25, 44
Hermaphrodites, 52
Homer s Iliad, motive of, 68-72
Hyacinth, favorite of Apollo, 87; j/ory o/J 88
Idomeneus and Meriones, 45
" /« Memoriam" Tennyson s, reviled by the " Times,
169 ; quoted, 170 */ J^.
187
Index
loldus, 23, 25, 44
Jalal-ud-din Rumi, 109, no, in
Jealousy in friendship y 9
Kasendi, an African ceremony, 5
Khalifa at Khartoum, 1 2
Lacedemonians, customs among, 25
Ladies, the, of Llangollen, 161, 162
"Leaves of Grass" quoted, 179-181
Zog^ ##«/ 0« school-friendships, 166, 167
Lowr answerable for his friend, 1 8 ; disgraceful for
a youth not to have a lover, ibid
Lovers invincible in battle, n, 12, 13, 23, 24, 28
Lucian quoted, 35
Ludwig of Bavaria and R. Wagner, 153 et seq.
Macaulay s History of England quoted, 145, 146
Manganjas, ceremonies among, 5
Mania, divine, 54
Marquesas Islands, 9
Martial's epigrams, quoted, 94
Maximus Tyrius quoted, 129
"M^y #«*/ Death," poem by Browning, 1 74
Meleager, verses by, 79
Melville, Herman, quoted, 8 */ J^.
Michel Angela, Sonnets, 129; ?«0/<?^, 131 <?/J<^.
Military Comradeship, 1 1 £/ J*?.
188
Index
Monastic life, friendship in, 97, 103 et seq.
Montaigne and Stephen de la Boetie, 123 et seq.; on
marriage, 125
Montalembert quoted, 103 et seq.
Moore, T., on Byron" s friendships, 164
Moschus, lament for Bion, 86
Mulamirin, or bodyguard of Khalifa, 13
Miiller, History and Antiquities of the Doric Race,
1 6 et seq.
Niobe, the sons of, 26, 27
Orestes and Pylades, 15, 44; story of, 35
Parmenides and Zeno, 30
Persia, customs, 109, 119
Penn, William, quoted, 145
Ph^edo, story of, 31
Phtfdrus, of Plato, 47, 49, 55
Pheidias and Pantarkes, 30
Philip of Macedon and the Theban Band, 23
Pindar to Theoxenos, 78; see also 153
Platen, Count August von, 151; sonnets to his friend
Karl Theodor German, 151, 152; sonnet on
death of Pindar, 153
Plato quoted, 16, 48 et seq., 72, 73 ; epigrams, 78
Plutarch quoted, 22, 26, 27, 6 1 etseq.; refer red to, 123
Polynesian Apollo, 9
Polynesian* customs, 8 */ ;*f.
189
Index
Potter, Archbishop, quoted, 147
Raffahvich quoted, 151
Reminiscence, true love a, 55-59
Renaissance, influence of, 99, 123
Saadi quoted, 113
Sacred Band, see Theban Band
Sacredness of friendship in the early world, 10, 37, 45
Sappho, 75 ; to Lesbia, 76
School-friendships, 165 et seq.
Sentiment of Comradeship, influenced by Christianity,
97 et seq.; by the Renaissance, 99, 123 ; its place
in the monastic life, 97, 103 et seq.; in modern
Democracy, 178
Shakespeare, 128, 138, 152; sonnets quoted, 139 et
seq.; Merchant of Venice, 142 ; Henry V., 143
Shelley, Adonais, 86; essay on friendship, 165
Sidney, Philip, friendship with Fulke Greville, 127;
with Hubert Languet, 127, 128
Sininyane and Moshoshoma, 5, 6
Socrates, his views, 47 ; quoted, 53 */ j£f ., 58, 59, 75
Socrates and Ph<edo, 3 1
Sophocles, his tragedy of Niobe, 74
Sparta, customs, 16
Suleyman the Magnificent and Ibrahim, 114
Symonds, J. A., quoted, 15, 20, 31, 47, 68, 79
190
Index
Symposium of Plato ', 48 et seq.; speech of Phtedrus,
49 ; of Pausanias, 51 ; of Aristophanes^ 52 ; of
Socrates, 53, 54; #/J0 72
Symposium of Xenophon, 59-61
Tacitus, Germania, 1 1
Tahiti, customs in, 8
Tennyson, Alfred, and his friend Hallam, 169; "/#
Memoriam" quoted, 170 */ J^.
Theban Band, account of, 21 et seq.; also 28, 68
Theocritus, Idyl xii., 80 et seq.; Idyl xxix., 84
Theognis and Kumus, 74, 75
Theseus and Pirithous, 15, 44, 85
Thirlivall, Bishop, quoted, 44
Thoreau, H. D., quoted, 175-6
Thucidides quoted, 32
Ulrichs, K. H., 157; i;m« quoted, 159
Valerius Maximus quoted, 37
ffrf//, ind Eclogue, 90; imitated, 133
Vision, the divine, 55, 56, 58
Wagner, Richard, friendship with Ludwig //., 153;
letters, 154, 155; 0# Greek comradeship, 156
Whitman, Walt, his "!ove of comrades," 177; Democra-
tic Vistas quoted, 178; Leaves of Grass quoted,
179-181
William of Orange and Bentinck, 145
Winckelmann, 148; ^/j /<?//m, 148; G0?//fo o», 149
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